Harry Potter and the Last Goodnight
by spazzoid3
Summary: This post-OotP fanfic covers Harry's 6th year. In this romance-angsty fic mixed with a little bit of darkness, Harry finds out what it's really like to be a best friend, a true love, and a part of a family. COMPLETE.
1. Manhood and a Mutt

ONE-TIME DISCLAIMER: I own nothing in this fanfiction. I have no association with J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Brothers, or any entity that makes money. I am a poor, poor college student. Also, just to avoid confusion, I am the actual author of this fic. If you've read it on FictionAlley before, I did not steal it, I am merely moving it to because of its easy upload process and lack of mod interference. I have total control. It's nice. Please feel free to review, but be kind. Thanks! Enjoy!

**CHAPTER ONE**

**Manhood and a Mutt**

Harry Potter did not bother to wipe the sweat dripping from his forehead as he turned off the lawnmower and hastily pushed it towards the Dursleys' open garage door. The garage itself was empty. No doubt Dudley was off in his second cruiser, having crashed his first car the day after he'd received his license.

Much to Dudley's dismay, Harry was unimpressed by Muggle transportation. A shiny Volkswagen was nothing compared to flying on his Firebolt, which had been sent to him a few days after his return to number four Privet Drive. He couldn't ride it in the Muggle world, but had enjoyed cleaning it now that it was back with him. The broom's return reminded him of his easier days of Quidditch and studying. Sometimes Harry liked to be reminded of those days and he thought of them fondly; they were memories of someone else's life.

He had felt like a different person ever since he stumbled out of Dumbledore's office on that sad and tragic night. He could recall the meeting as though it had taken place the night before, not four weeks ago: Dumbledore's explanation, his burden of guilt, his admission of the truth and of the prophecy. And somehow, Dumbledore's love for Harry comforted him in the most miserable and furious moments alone on Privet Drive. And it was love - he knew it was – because Dumbledore had shed a tear over him.

Indeed, he was never completely alone. Even after he'd put the lawnmower away, he could see Aunt Petunia's head sticking out the kitchen window. She was peering closely at him with those beady eyes of hers. He did not acknowledge her supervision and walked back out onto the lawn, stretching with his arms held high over his head.

He began doing chores for the Dursleys as a sort of reparation for the many new privileges he'd enjoyed over the past few weeks. He had been allowed to use the telephone, and both Hermione and Ron called him many times during holiday. In fact, Ron loved using the phone that Mr. Weasley had installed in the garage at the Burrow, and he called Harry nearly every other day with nothing to talk about. And usually halfway through the conversation Mr. Weasley would take the phone away from Ron and begin asking him questions about the mysteriousness of Muggle artifacts.

Harry had also been allowed to watch television, which he did every morning, but it was only to watch the news as he had the previous summer, only this time he could be on the couch instead of hiding in the flower bed. The Dursleys were not used to his presence in their den, but didn't question him about only watching the news. Aunt Petunia would fold and unfold her hands nervously in her lap every morning. Harry could tell she wanted to ask him about what was going on with Voldemort's return, but the proud and stubborn parts of her would not allow herself to accept the Dark Lord's existence.

Dudley had even let Harry use his punching bag in the basement, along with his pair of old boxing gloves. This had proved the best privilege of all, because Harry had a lot of anger bubbling inside of him, and the best way for him to get it out without shouting at the wall until he was hoarse was by beating the hell out of the punching bag.

His fierce workouts had improved him physically. He was now sporting broader shoulders with a few bicep lines that subtly stuck out when his t-shirts were too small. The yard work had also given him a more masculine physique and calloused hands, and there had been a few occasions when he had seen Dudley's girlfriends glance twice at him. He supposed that the new wardrobe had helped as well – Aunt Petunia had taken him shopping for Muggle clothes one day after she'd received a disturbing piece of mail. Harry suspected that the Order may have had something to do with it, especially after Tonks had asked him if his aunt's little shopping spree had cheered him up a bit.

He'd lied to her, of course, and said that the new clothes had made him quite happy and that he even saw a twinge of jealousy in his cousin's eyes. Harry, however, did not care whether the clothes were stylish or whether they fit him. Clothes were trivial, and no matter what he wore, it would not bring Sirius back.

At the thought of his late godfather, he quickly sprang back out into the yard, getting down on his hands and knees to remove some stubborn weeds that had managed to escape the wrath of the lawnmower. If he could have used his wand, he'd have been able to massacre the weeds with no problem.

A car drove past Harry, and the bald-headed man inside raised a hand to wave at him. Harry waved back. It was odd to be acknowledged at the Dursleys home. They had convinced the entire neighborhood that he was a troubled student at St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. But after Aunt Petunia had bought him the new clothes and he was allowed to step out of the house without his uncle yelling at him, the neighbors seemed to accept him and had an attitude of friendliness towards him. No one was more surprised by this than Harry.

After pulling up the weeds and throwing them into the trash in the garage, Harry checked his digital watch – another item from Aunt Petunia's generous shopping binge. It was five to two, and he knew that Mrs. Figg would be expecting him for afternoon tea shortly.

Harry wiped his dirty hands on his jeans and walked down the driveway to the sidewalk, where he saw a giant dog bounding towards him. He soon realized that the dog was trailing someone behind it. A young woman, with dark, curly hair, was quietly cursing at the overgrown sheep dog as it spotted a squirrel and took off to the other side of the street. She had managed to gain control over the dog before it could pull into the street. She groaned as she pulled the dog back onto the sidewalk.

Harry grinned and thought about offering her a hand, but decided against it. He was afraid that if he was late, Mrs. Figg would call the entire Order out to Privet Drive to look for him. As the dog passed, he glanced up at its walker.

"Hullo," she said brightly. Her voice was hiding a bit of a very attractive Irish accent. Harry could see her hands' quivering grip as she tried to maintain her control over the dog. He now recognized the mutt as Piers Polkiss's puppy, though he wasn't much of a puppy anymore. He didn't recognize the young lady, however, and from her rather good looks he decided that she was probably not a blood relative of the beefy and repulsive Polkiss family.

"Hi," Harry replied. Forgetting himself, he opened his mouth to offer help to her, but she continued past him without another word, the dog now bounding towards the Dursleys' freshly cut yard. Harry could see her slim figure slip along with the dog, her curls bouncing behind her.

Harry quickly closed his mouth. That was his problem all along. Always wanting to help people. Always wanting to save the day. To save anyone who needed saving – even to save those who didn't.

A new bubble of anger rose in his stomach and he had half a mind to march back to the Dursleys and take his aggression out on the punching bag, but he was already in front of Mrs. Figg's house on Wisteria Walk. Plus, he had the suspicious feeling that she'd already spotted him. There seemed to be at least one member of the order on guard at all times, just as there had been last summer.

He trudged up the driveway and opened the side screen door, not bothering to knock.

"Harry, dear, is that you?"

"It's me," he mumbled, letting the door slam behind him. He walked into the kitchen, which reeked of cabbage, and resisted the urge to plug his nose. "Listen, Mrs. Figg, I can't stay long..."

His voice trailed off. Mrs. Figg was standing at the sink, washing dishes the Muggle way, wearing the same slippers Harry had always seen her wear. A familiar face with smiling eyes waved to him from the kitchen table.

"Hello, Harry," Lupin greeted. He looked healthy – Harry was vaguely aware that it had been almost a week since a new moon, which meant he'd had time to recover from his last transformation.

"Welcome back," Harry said, and took only three strides to the table where Lupin stood up and held out his hand for Harry to shake.

There was an awkward pause when Harry was about to sit down and Lupin reached out and gave him a hug. Harry pushed his shame and embarrassment into the pit of his stomach and attempted to return the gesture, but he couldn't do it. He stood stonily with no expression, fighting to show no sign whatsoever of what he was feeling.

Lupin didn't seem to notice and gestured for Harry to sit down. Grateful for the end of the uncomfortable hug, he plopped down into a chair and Lupin did the same. Mrs. Figg bustled into the cupboard and pulled out a package of cookies that looked like they'd come from a Muggle grocery store, but Harry couldn't be sure.

Lupin hungrily took a cookie and ate it in nearly one bite. Harry didn't have much of an appetite and merely watched him. His hair was a tad grayer than the last time Harry had seen him, but he was a lot less hairy. His light brown eyes were shining brightly. "You look good, Professor Lupin," he said.

"Please, Harry. I think it is time to end the formalities. Call me Remus," Professor Lupin replied, smiling, although Harry found himself doubting that he would ever be at ease calling Professor Lupin Remus. "And I thank you for the compliment. I feel good, for the first time since..." He glanced at Harry's scar, and then went back to munching another cookie. "Well, for awhile."

Harry did not meet his eyes and thought of shoving a cookie in his mouth only because then he wouldn't have to speak. He could feel Lupin searching him for any sign of emotion – any sign of weakness. Harry would not give it to him.

"You look different."

Harry looked up inquisitively. "I'm sorry?"

"You look like..."

Lupin's pause made Harry's head spin. If he was going to say "James," Harry had half a mind to reach across the table and slug him in the face. Couldn't he sense the absolute heartbreak inside of Harry? Couldn't he see how hard everything was for him? How day-to-day activity was treacherous? How he threw himself into work merely for the distraction of the pain he suffered every time he looked in the mirror?

"You look like a man," Lupin stated.

"Er..." Harry didn't know quite what to say. He didn't know if he should feel flattered or thankful. Feelings were his problem in the first place. "I... Well, I..."

Lupin held up a hand to silence him. "I know it has only been four weeks, but you've grown. In many different ways." He searched Harry again, staring from the tip of his unruly hair to his toes sticking out of his sandals. "I daresay you are a man, Harry."

"Oh Remus, you stop that now," Mrs. Figg scolded. She returned from the stove with a pot of tea and the _Daily Prophet_. Mrs. Figg always gave Harry her copy to read at night. "He is not a man yet."

"Manhood is not a title one gives to someone else," Professor Lupin said. "Manhood is simply there. It's visible. I can see it in your eyes. It's the way you carry yourself, Harry."

Harry turned away. At first flattered by the comment, he did not want to feel like a man. He didn't know how he could possibly look like a man when he felt so childish on the inside. He felt like a little boy.

"He doesn't need to be hearing that right now. Filling his head with such gall..." But when Mrs. Figg turned away, still muttering to herself, Lupin winked at him.

And for a moment, Harry thought that maybe he could be at ease with Professor Lupin again. He was still a friend, and he had gone through a considerable amount of pain, just as Harry had. He could trust Lupin. He always had.

"So what have you been up to?" Harry asked, nonchalantly.

"I visited with Hagrid for a time. He's got a handful of trouble in that forest, all right. He's such an affectionate old chap." Harry did not hide his smile. He had seen Hagrid's half-brother, Grawp, firsthand, and experienced some of the damage a sixteen-foot, substandard giant could do. "Madam Maxime has been with him for most of the summer. The two of them wanted to go back to the mountains again, to see what could be repaired with the other giants, but Dumbledore wouldn't let them." Lupin's eyes grew dark. "I'm afraid it's too late for them."

"And after Hagrid's and collecting some potion from the most generous Severus Snape," Lupin paused to snort, "I went back to the Grimmauld Place. We only had a few days before Narcissa Malfoy would be using every sort of magic to find the House of Black, with help from Kreacher, of course. We had to clear the place out."

Harry's stomach flip-flopped. What he wouldn't give to strangle that house elf. But when his rage subsided, what Lupin was saying started to sink in. He was glad he would never have to return to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. The memory of Sirius was fresh there, in the House of Black. "Malfoy's mum?" Harry questioned. "I don't understand."

"Well, with... with Sirius truly gone..."

Harry heard a small gulping noise, and he was quite sure it had come from him.

"It is only a matter of time before the house turns against the Order and reveals itself to the true owner, who would, indeed, be Narcissa Malfoy, Sirius's cousin. Of course, in all probability, it could also go to Bellatrix Lestrange, but she _is_ on the run, and it would be quite foolish of her to attempt to use the house. We were hoping that it would somehow end up in Molly's care, but it appears the house has already made its decision..."

Harry's fury was boiling inside of him. He felt he soon would explode. He wanted to throw a tantrum. He wanted to scream at Lupin to stops speaking of these people: Sirius, Kreacher, the Malfoys, or Bellatrix. He couldn't take another word. If he heard anymore, he thought that surely he would explode from the inside and his heart would crack.

"I think that's quite enough for one day, Remus," Mrs. Figg said. "The boy doesn't need to hear everything."

"He is not a boy, he is a man..."

"That is not for you to decide!" Mrs. Figg cried, strands of hair falling loose from her hairnet.

Clearly taken aback by Mrs. Figg's outburst, Lupin stopped his tale of the past month. "He asked, so I answered."

Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to know everything. He didn't know if he wanted to be left in the dark. Everything in his life was clouded by uncertainty. Perhaps it really was a mistake for him to drop by Mrs. Figg's this afternoon.

The kitchen fell into silence, and though it was awkward, Harry did not interrupt it because he no longer wanted to speak. He stared blankly out the window and watched as the young woman who he'd met on the way to Mrs. Figg's house ran passed, the dog pulling her behind him.

"Poor mutt," Lupin said, following Harry's gaze. "I suspect he's been tied up since the day after those Muggles brought him home. It's about time he had a walk."


	2. An Owl for Uncle Vernon

**CHAPTER TWO**

**An Owl for Uncle Vernon**

Dinner at the Dursleys was outright boring, in Harry's opinion. He was now allowed to join his aunt and uncle at the table due to Dudley's constant evening absence. For every other meal of the day he had to eat in the kitchen, standing over the sink. Aunt Petunia would fuss about him, threatening his life if he spilled on the carpet. But Dudley almost never came home for dinner, and spent his time riding around with his gang until the early hours of the morning. Harry wondered if Dear Dudders was aware of his replacement at the dinner table.

In contrast to meals at the sink, Harry was invisible at the kitchen table. When his aunt and uncle did speak, they spoke only to each other and did not even look at him. It was fine with Harry. He didn't have to be polite and ask them to pass this or that, and he even got to sit down properly.

Tonight was no exception. Mr. Dursley was sitting at the table, reading his newspaper and chewing loudly. Harry wished that he could read the _Daily Prophet _as he ate, but knew it was out of the question. He also had the newest installment of _The Quibbler_ that Luna Lovegood had sent him, which he hadn't had time to read yet between yard work and boxing.

Aunt Petunia sat at the table looking bored and indifferent. She scooped up her peas with her fork one by one and slipped them into her mouth. Every once in a while her eyes would pass over Harry, and he would see something that resembled a mother's anxiety. But he was quite sure that the concern was only because she forgot he wasn't Dudley. The look would vanish as quickly as it had appeared before he could dwell on it. He couldn't help but enjoy the atmosphere of rebellion he felt whenever he sat in Dudley's chair.

He was just about to reach for his second helping of kidney pie when there was a great hoot from outside the back window. A small, brown barn owl was hovering in the air, pecking at the glass.

Aunt Petunia screamed. Uncle Vernon looked up from his paper and turned to the back window, horrified.

"Boy, I warned you last time..."

But before he could yell any further, Harry got up from his seat and sprinted outside, where he untied the parchment envelope from the owl's leg. He gestured up to his room where Hedwig was usually perched. He hoped the owl would get the message as he turned on his heel and walked back into the dining room.

"I told you boy, no more owls in my house!"

"Technically, the owl wasn't _in_ the house," Harry replied. Uncle Vernon didn't object. He was staring at the envelope in Harry's hand.

"That's got my name on it," he snarled. "Boy, why has that letter got my name on it? Do you _know_ what would happen if people saw my name on it?"

Harry looked down at the mail in disbelief. Who would be writing to his uncle?

_Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley - Care of Harry Potter  
Number Four Privet Drive  
Little Whinging, Surrey_

When Harry flipped the letter over to open it, there was a stamp that said:

_Top Secret Information  
Those who open this letter and are not the addressee will be hexed immediately._

He recognized the seal of the Ministry of Magic in wax, holding the letter shut. Afraid he would get hexed because the letter was not technically addressed to him, Harry handed the letter over to his uncle. "I think you should open it."

Uncle Vernon turned very pale and eye Harry curiously. "What is the meaning of this?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know, but it's addressed to you, so you'd better open it."

After a few minutes of debating with Aunt Petunia, Harry's uncle took a deep breath and ripped open the envelope, bracing himself for the worst. When nothing happened, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He briefly wondered what he had done wrong now that his aunt and uncle would receive a letter from the Ministry.

But after reading the letter several times over, Uncle Vernon turned to Harry looking very confused. "Boy, did you take some kind of... some sort of... tests?"

Harry's eyes lit up with the realization that what he had just received were the results of his O.W.L. examinations. He snatched the letter as fast as he'd ever taken the snitch from Malfoy and took a moment to pray before reading.

_Dear Harry Potter and Guardians,_

_Enclosed are the results from the Ordinary Wizarding Level (O.W.L.) examinations. Please read them over carefully as they will be very vital to your future at Hogwarts. Upon receiving the results, please consult the N.E.W.T. programs form also included in this letter and fill it out to the best of your knowledge. Send it back to your head of house and expect a list of school supplies the week before the next term. Any protests or complaints can be lodged with Griselda Marchbanks of the Wizarding Examinations Authority._

_The grading scale works as follows: O is Outstanding, E is Exceeds Expectations, A is Acceptable, P is Poor, D is Dreadful, and T is Terrible. Anything lower than an A is a failing grade._

Harry was momentarily glad that T did not stand for Troll as Fred and George had told him, but his anxiety only increased. He tried to remember what McGonagall had told him about becoming an Auror. He needed to take five N.E.W.T. classes all together. Professor McGonagall had only told him four subjects he needed to take and they were Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. But if he wanted to take the N.E.W.T. classes, he would need certain grades in his O.W.L.s. If only Harry could remember more clearly. He thought he needed at least an E in Transfiguration and an O in Potions.

_Fat chance_, he thought bitterly. He was positive there was no way he had received an Outstanding grade in Potions, and if he didn't have an O, then Snape wouldn't accept him into the program.

As he turned the piece of parchment over to reveal his grades, Harry realized his hands were shaking. If he couldn't be an Auror, what else would he do?

**CLASS THEORY PRACTICAL OVERALL  
**Charms O E E  
Transfiguration E O O  
Herbology E A A  
Defense Against Dark Arts O O O  
Care of Magical Creatures E O O  
Astronomy E A E  
Divination - P P  
History of Magic D - D  
Potions E O O

Harry couldn't believe what he was reading. At the bottom of the slip of parchment, next to Potions, was an O. He'd gotten an outstanding O.W.L. in Potions! He'd forgotten where he was and began jumping up and down in the middle of the Dursleys' dining room.

"I don't believe it! I don't believe it!" Harry cried. "I've done it!"

"_Sit down boy!_" Uncle Dursley growled. But Harry wasn't listening. He could have kissed his uncle he was so happy.

_Sirius_. He wanted to tell Sirius. He wanted to –

Harry realized with a start that Sirius wasn't there. There was no one there for him. He felt emptiness, a huge void inside of him. He was lonely. Anger flared up inside of him at his own stupidity. How could he have forgotten?

He didn't want to feel at all anymore.

Harry could barely hear his uncle shouting at him as he fell back into his chair. Somewhere in the distance a phone was ringing, but Harry was concentrating so hard on not getting emotional that he though it was on the television.

"It's for _you_," Uncle Vernon spat, and dropped the cordless telephone into Harry's lap.

Bewildered, Harry picked up the phone and tried to bring himself back to reality. _Forget about Sirius_, he thought. _Forget about the Ministry, forget about everyone. Don't feel._

"Hello?" Harry whispered.

"Harry?!" It was Hermione's voice that greeted him on the other end of the phone. "Harry, you sound dreadful! Did you just get your O.W.L. letter?"

Harry nodded, but then realized that Hermione couldn't see a nod through a phone. "Y-yes. I did."

"Oh, how did you do?" Hermione squealed. "It can't be all that bad Harry."

"No, I... I did fine," Harry replied, managing a light laugh that his heart wasn't really in. "I actually got an Outstanding in Potions." He barely believed it himself.

"That's excellent, Harry! I knew you would be great at Potions if you didn't have Snape breathing down your neck."

"How did you do?" he asked, but he was pretty sure he already knew the answers.

"All Outstandings," she said. "Except for... Well, except for..."

"Except for what?"

"Except for in Care of Magical Creatures."

Harry gasped. "But Hermione, how on earth...?"

"I was _distracted_!" Hermione cried. "I don't know where I went wrong. I've been replaying the Practical exam over and over in my mind and I..."

"But you did pass it, didn't you?"

"Of course," she said. "I got an E, but still..."

"Do you know how Ron did?" Harry interrupted.

"Yes, I do." There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"How did he do?"

"He did... Well, he did better than Fred and George."

Somehow, Harry did not find that very reassuring. There was commotion in the background, and he could have sworn he heard Ron's voice say, "Let me tell him!"

"Hermione, is Ron _there_? What's he doing at your house?"

"Actually, I'm at the Burrow. Ouch! Ron!" Hermione was apparently struggling. He heard Ron curse.

"What are you at the Burrow for?" Harry questioned, not bothering to hide his jealousy. He remembered last summer, when both Ron and Hermione had spent most of the summer holiday at the Grimmauld Place, while he was suffering alone at the Dursleys. He nearly had an ulcer from worrying so much.

"That's what we're calling about."

"Did something happen?" Harry demanded, immediately feeling guilty for his tone. "Is something wrong?"

"No, we were just wondering if you wanted to spend the rest of the summer with us."

"HERMIONE! GIVE ME THE FELLYTONE!" Ron demanded. Harry heard Hermione cry out as Ron's voice came through clearly on the other end of the phone. "Harry, you're not going to believe this. I got an E in Potions!" he said angrily. "I got an E and now I can't take Snape's stupid N.E.W.T. class and I'll never be an Auror!"

Harry's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. Ron had told him in a letter a few days ago that both he and Hermione had decided that they would be taking all the proper N.E.W.T. classes to become an Auror. He had been delighted at first, but the doubt that all three of them would make the grades had been eating away at him. He heard struggling on the other end of the phone and Hermione was speaking to him again. "It's not over yet, Harry!" Hermione cried. "We're going to contest it. Mr. Weasley has just sent an owl to that old bat Marchbanks at the Ministry. And we still haven't talked to Snape about it yet."

"Talk to Snape?" Harry asked.

Ron was back on the phone. "Yeah, Hermione's got this crazy idea that he may change his O.W.L. standard for the class, but I hardly think he'd give _me_ special attention."

Harry felt a glimmer of hope somewhere. He felt a closer connection to Snape, though he didn't want to, ever since he'd seen a memory in his Pensieve. Perhaps he could talk to Snape. Maybe he could offer to help tutor Ron – but he was no better at Potions than Ron, especially when he was working in a classroom under Snape's nose.

Harry sighed. "I'm sure we can fix this." But he didn't quite believe it himself.

"That's not why we're calling. Mum and dad had a great idea."I have some news. Good news," he added quickly.

"What is it?" Harry asked impatiently. His aunt and uncle were both hunched over his letter on the table, and Uncle Vernon was touching it carefully with his fingertips as though it were going to bite him.

"Well, we thought it was about time that you came and stayed at the Burrow. Are you ready to leave the Dursleys?"

Harry glanced up at his aunt and uncle who were still studying his O.W.L. letter. "Definitely. I'm ready."

"You're kidding?"

"No, she's not," Ron said. Apparently, they were taking turns passing the phone back and forth. "Bill proposed to her the day we got back from Hogwarts, right in front of everybody. She was staying over the summer holiday with us and now, well, it looks like she'll be here permanently. We've got a veela in the family!"

Harry couldn't help but smile. He remembered the way the beautiful girl from Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour, had looked at Ron's older brother on one of those fateful days during his fourth year. Harry had always thought of Bill as the perfect illustration of cool. He dressed as muggle his age would, except he wore his trademark pair of dragon-hide boots. His hair was long and he wore it tied back in a pony tail, careful not to cover up his earring.

"That's great, Ron. Really. Good for Bill."

"And the best part is that _everybody's_ at the Burrow right now," Ron added.

"Well, not everybody," Hermione scoffed in the background.

"What do you mean, not everybody?" Harry asked.

"Percy," Hermione answered, her voice angry. "He's not here." There was another struggle, and Harry heard Hermione say, "The cord's tangled in my hair, Ron!"

"Sorry, 'Mione. Mum and dad want him to come back," Ron said, "but Fred and George were against it. They saidtold Bill that they can't trust him and he needs to suffer a little before he comes home."his wedding. But he seems to be avoiding the subject, though, every time someone asks him about it."

Harry hadn't thought much of Percy after he'd written a nasty letter telling Ron to ditch him as a friend. But now the Ministry understood that Voldemort was back and they saw some of the errors of their ways. He still wasn't sure if he was ready to forgive Percy. Harry didn't know if he could ever trust him again.

Ron sighed into the phone. "Well, Percy's always been a mindless git. He's practically living at the office, beckoning to Fudge's every need. I can't believe that dad actually has lunch with that prat everyday."

"But he's apologized a thousand times!" Hermione cried. "I mean, he's _Percy_, Ron. He's your brother!"

"Yeah, well you didn't get a nasty note telling you that your best friend was an insane attention-seeker and that you should sever all ties with him."

"We all make mistakes, Ron," Hermione said.

"Anyways, dad talked to Fudge and they're going to let us borrow a car to come and pick you up the day after tomorrow – if that's okay with your aunt and uncle," he added quickly. Harry gazed up at the two of them. They were still staring at the parchment, and Aunt Petunia was mouthing the words _Defense Against the Dark Arts_ with wide eyes.

"I think they'll be ready to be rid of me." And at those words, Uncle Vernon looked up gave Harry a nod of approval, not that Harry needed it. He would never stay behind anyway.

"Wicked," Ron replied. "Dad's going to show me how to drive a Muggle car!" And he said it's a lot easier than a flying one."

"That's great," Harry replied. There was a pang of jealousy inside of him. He wished that Sirius could have been around to show him how to drive. Even Uncle Vernon had shown Dudley. Who would teach him?

And then he scolded himself for thinking of such stupid things. There were a lot of more important lessons for him to learn than how to drive some idiotic Muggle invention. Harry guessed that most wizards didn't even know how to drive. They could ride their broomsticks or use Floo Powder or Portkeys.Portkeys. If they needed to travel disguised as a Muggle, there was always the Underground or a cab. Driving an automobile was clearly not a vital skill he needed in his studies.

But it didn't make him want to learn it any less.

"Are you still there, Harry?" Hermione questioned. It was her turn on the phone again. "Listen, we've got to go; these Muggle telephone lines are only secure for so long. We'll be seeing you the day after tomorrow then, all right?"

"Right," Harry replied firmly. "Bye, Hermione."

"Bye Harry!" Both she and Ron cried into the phone. It wasn't until he heard a click that he pressed the "off" button on the cordless and put it down on the dining room table.

"What was that about?" Uncle Vernon demanded. "That call was far too long. We may have to make you pay for it in your chores."

Harry shrugged indifferently. "Ron and Mr. Weasley are coming to pick me up at noon on Wednesday," he announced.

"Good," Uncle Vernon said. Then he seemed to reconsider, eyeing the fireplace. "Er, how were they planning to arrive?"

"They've borrowed a car," Harry answered.

Uncle Vernon looked disgusted. "Now what was this? And why was it addressed to us?" he questioned, holding the letter in his hand and gesturing to Aunt Petunia.

"It's my O.W.L.s. My Ordinary Wizarding Levels." When the two of them still looked confused, he tried again. "My grades. I guess they were addressed to you so that the Ministry could make sure that the students are not hiding them from their par – their guardians."

Uncle Vernon seemed to accept this. It must have made sense to him, which probably only perplexed him. Nothing about the wizarding world had ever made sense to the Dursleys.

"I... I think I'll just head upstairs now," Harry said quietly. "To bed."

"You do that," Uncle Vernon barked. "And I want that garden replanted before you leave on Wednesday!"

"Yes sir," Harry replied automatically. Aunt Petunia looked down at the table, almost as if to suggest that Harry finish his dinner. However, before she could say anything, he turned on his heel and trudged upstairs. If there was anything he wasn't feeling right now, it was hungry.


	3. Back to the Burrow

**CHAPTER THREE**

**Back to the Burrow**

The next day moved rather quickly for Harry. He'd spent most of the night before packing up his things in eager anticipation of returning to the Burrow. If there had been one place that had ever felt like home to him – besides Hogwarts – it would have to be the Burrow. And best of all, there were no memories of Sirius there.

Harry had spent most of the morning working in Aunt Petunia's garden, weeding out the dandelions and planting seedlings in their place. She even took him with her to the flower shop on the other side of town to pick up a special order of wildflowers from Bermuda. Harry had the distinct impression he was being watched like a hawk in the store by the young, yet familiar face of the store clerk. Perhaps the rumors of his reputation as a student of St. Brutus's Center had now reached the business district.

He found himself studying Aunt Petunia very closely as she drove back to Privet Drive. It didn't look very difficult to shift between gears. In fact, Harry thought it was a lot like riding a broom. You had to step on the clutch before shifting just as you had to grip your broomstick harder before speeding up. It made sense to him.

The thought of asking Aunt Petunia to teach him how to drive had crossed his mind, but as soon as the idea had popped into his head he dismissed it. The very thought was laughable, and his aunt would have no problem cackling in his face at such an absurd request.

After he had finished with the garden, he slipped away to Mrs. Figg's house to say goodbye and thank her for her company during the summer. Lupin had moved on again, and Tonks was on watch duty for the day.

"Now don't let what Remus told you go to your head," she scolded. "I know you are not a boy, but you are not yet a man. I know that's not what you want to hear, but it is the truth. A boy doesn't change into a man overnight. You are in-between, Harry. Caught between two worlds. Don't let them get the better of you."

"Remus doesn't know anything about what it takes to be a man," Tonks spat. Harry got the distinct impression that there was more to her anger than just what he'd said to Harry. "He's a lousy one himself. Don't listen to him, Harry. When you're a man, you'll know. You won't need him to tell you." Then Mrs. Figg gave him one last pat on the back and shoved him out the door so fast that Harry was wondering whether he had been welcome in her house at all.

The next day, Uncle Vernon had taken the day off work rather than leave Aunt Petunia alone to meet Ron and Mr. Weasley. Dudley, however, was not hanging around. Bad things tended to happen to him whenever the Weasleys were involved in picking Harry up.

Dudley had never talked to Harry about the events of the previous summer. There was one time when they had both arrived home early in the wee hours of the morning that Dudley looked as though he wanted to question Harry about the dementors. He was probably still convinced that it was something Harry had done to him. However, he had reconsidered and pushed Harry over into the driveway so hard he'd skinned his arm on the cement.

Uncle Vernon was pacing the living room, his gaze never wavering from the picture window. The driveway was empty. Every time a car drove by and it wasn't the Weasleys, Aunt Petunia would make a clicking noise in the back of her throat and check the grandfather clock near the doorway.

Though Harry now knew why he had to return to the Dursleys every summer, he didn't find it any more comforting. It was his family blood, used for protection. Some sort of ancient magic that it seemed Voldemort didn't even understand. He wanted to ask his aunt about it so bad that the question was burning on the tip of his tongue every afternoon they spent alone together.

But he didn't care anymore. His time at the Dursleys was over. And Harry knew that if he could be happy anywhere, it would be at the Burrow.

A sleek black car pulled into the driveway. Uncle Vernon looked quite surprised as Mr. Weasley stepped out of the car. "Well, well, it looks like they're getting a little better at this." Mr. Weasley was wearing a very fashionable gray pinstripe suit with a silk purple tie. Ron was wearing a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt as he followed his father to the front door.

"Oh! I've heard of these!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. "They're called doorbells – an excellent alarm system for announcing visitors!" Harry quickly ran to the entrance just as he heard Mr. Weasley whisper to Ron, "Am I supposed to push this button once, or a few times to make sure they hear it?"

Harry opened the door. "Hello, Harry!" Mr. Weasley greeted. "Ready to go, then?"

"Just need my trunk and Hedwig," Harry replied.

"I'll help," Ron said and the two of them retreated to the hallway, where Harry had his things packed.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat as Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia approached him carefully. "How do you do, Dursley?"

Uncle Vernon looked as though he had just smelled something rancid. "Fine."

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat again in the awkward silence. "Lovely weather today, isn't it?"

Uncle Vernon didn't say anything. Harry quickly walked between them with his trunk and Ron followed behind him with Hedwig and her cage. "Er... We'd better get going."

"Righto, Harry." Mr. Weasley said. "Goodbye." He glared at Harry's aunt and uncle. Harry feared for a moment that there was going to be another episode like when Mr. Weasley picked him up for the Quidditch World Cup, and Mr. Weasley had demanded that they say goodbye to Harry. But this time, he didn't say anything.

"Good – goodbye, Harry," Aunt Petunia said quietly.

Harry felt an odd lurch somewhere in his stomach. Uncle Vernon's face turned very, very red and then very, very purple. "See you next summer, then," Harry replied, and quickly shut the front door, afraid that his uncle's screaming would disturb the entire neighborhood.

Ron eyed Harry nervously as they made their way to the car and put Harry's trunk inside. "That was odd."

Harry nodded in agreement. "These past four weeks haven't really been too terrible, actually."

"You look good, Harry," Mr. Weasley said. "They must have been feeding you properly."

"You look different," Ron agreed. "In a good way, of course."

He could feel himself blushing. Lupin had said the same thing. "I guess I've just done some growing up, that's all."

"In more ways than one," Mr. Weasley added. He sighed and took the car keys out of his back pocket. "Now, I may regret doing this, but Ron, I believe it is your turn to drive." A giant grin broke out on to Ron's face. "Harry, I suggest you get in the backseat and fasten your seat belt. Tight," he added.

"You have nothing to worry about," Ron announced. "I've drove before. It's not a big deal."

"This is a bit different than flying an Anglia**Angelina**," Mr. Weasley said. "There's no traffic in the skies. There are, however, a lot of pedestrians and other cars on the road."

"Pedestrians?"

"Muggles," Mr. Weasley replied. "You know, people crossing the street."

"Right," Ron said.

"Are we driving all the way to the Burrow?" Harry questioned. Ottery St. Catchpole was quite a ways away from Privet Drive.

"No, just to London," Mr. Weasley replied, "if we don't crash first."

The three of them made it to London without incident. Ron was feeling very smug with himself by the end of the drive. Mr. Weasley asked Harry if he'd like to give it a try, but Harry refused. It didn't feel right. He tried to remind himself of how he'd felt when Dudley was out riding around with his friends. A car was nothing compared to flying on his Firebolt.

From the ministry, they traveled by Floo Powder to the Burrow. Harry's trunk unbalanced him and he nearly fell out of the fireplace, but he had managed to collect himself and moved out of the way before Ron arrived with Hedwig.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, rushing over to him and giving him a hug. "How was your summer?"

"All right," Harry said honestly. "How was yours?"

"Amazing," Hermione replied. "My parents took me to New York for a week. It was one of the most beautiful cities I've ever seen!"

"Who knew dentists were so well-traveled?" Ron laughed, wiping some soot off his shoulders.

"Welcome back, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley greeted as she hustled into the room. Without warning, she threw her arms around Harry in a fierce hug. Harry was thrown off-balance. Mrs. Weasley had always treated him like one of her own. When Mr. Weasley had been in St. Mungo's last year, she pulled him into the room with the "family only" restriction. He felt awkward about it then, and he still wasn't quite sure about how he felt as a surrogate member of the already full Weasley family.

"Now, Molly, don't crowd him," Mr. Weasley scolded.

"Sorry, dear. It's just so good to see you. You look wonderful."

"Er, thanks," Harry replied. An unsettling silence filled the air. Everyone was staring at him again. Had he really changed that much? He was just about to make an excuse to leave the room – anything to get so many pairs of eyes off of him – when the enchanted grandfather clock in the corner of the room caught his eye.

The clock was a great magical relic. It didn't tell the time, but had nine hands for each member of the Weasley family. There were no numbers, but it had things like "home," "school," "work," and "mortal peril" where the numbers would be. Harry realized that every hand but Percy's was pointing at "home," which was an odd coincidence. Why were Bill and Charlie home? But what was even more startling was that he now counted ten hands on the clock. He had his own hand and it was also pointing at "home."

Harry was shocked. Home? Was the Burrow really his home? The only place he'd ever felt _really_ at home was at Hogwarts. But the Burrow was Ron's home; it wasn't his. And it wasn't that the Weasleys weren't great to him, it was just that he would never really quite fit in the family full of redheads.

"About the clock, dear..." Mrs. Weasley said. "I hope you don't mind."

Harry smiled. "No, not at all." He was actually feeling flattered that they cared enough.

"Yeah, Harry's in mortal peril so often anyways," Ginny said, joining them in the living room. Harry didn't look at her. He felt ashamed. He didn't want anyone fussing over him.

"Well, I'm afraid that you lot are never far behind him," Mrs. Weasley said sadly. Harry remembered when she was trying to battle a boggart last year at Grimmauld Place, and each time she tried to get rid of it, she would see another one of her children dead.

The sad truth was that Harry always did put his friends in danger, and that he always felt the need to rescue them, whether it was in their best interest or not. And a lot of his friends happened to be members of the Weasley family.

Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Did you bring your N.E.W.T. form?"

"My what?"

"That form that you got with your O.W.L. letter. We need to sign up for our classes and send the letters back before the end of the week."

"Hermione, I'm sure Harry doesn't want to do that right now," Ron said.

"Actually, I did have a few things I wanted to ask you about this year," Harry said. There had been questions brewing in his mind ever since he got his O.W.L. results.

"That's a good idea," Mrs. Weasley said. "Dinner will be ready in a flash. Why don't all of you sit down at the kitchen table and get to work on your letters? Fred and George will take your trunk up to Ron's room and I'll go let Hedwig out."

Ron let out a groan as the three of them went into the kitchen and took a seat at the big oak table. Harry saw that outside, Bill, Charlie, and Ginny, were setting up a large table for dinner. Harry remembered his first time at the Burrow, the summer before his second year, when the entire Weasley family had been together for one meal. It had been one of the most comfortable moments of his life.

Ron retrieved his letter from a nearby countertop and plopped into a chair beside Harry. "Why is everybody here?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean?" Ron said, flipping over his results.

"I mean, why are Bill and Charlie home? Does it have something to do with the Order?"

Ron grinned. "No. It's just because it's summer holiday. That's all."

Hermione scoffed. "Doesn't it feel rather _weird_ without Percy?"

"I'd say it feels very relaxed without that traitor," George spat, apparating in the chair next to her. He looking very slick a dragon hide coat. He seemed to be growing out his hair like Bill's, as it was rather long compared to Fred's.

"He's not a traitor. Everybody makes mistakes."

"Don't stick up for him, Hermione," Ron said.

"Well somebody ought to!" she cried. "He can't speak for himself when he's not even welcome in his own home."

"Oh he's welcome," George said. "He's welcome to come home and explain himself to me."

"And me," Fred added as he entered the kitchen.

"Why don't you two go outside and help Ginny with the table settings?" Mrs. Weasley said. It was more a command than a request, and, quite reluctantly, the twins headed outside into the backyard. "I'm sorry, Harry," Mrs. Weasley apologized. "Things are a bit... fierce around here lately." And with a sad sigh, she followed the twins outside.

"If anybody should be apologizing, it's Percy," Ron muttered. "The way he treated mum and dad... It still gets me riled up." There was a hint of heat in his cheeks as he slammed his fist on the table. Hermione made a clicking sound of disapproval in the back of her throat, but said nothing.

The screen door opened and slammed shut in the kitchen and Ginny walked in. Harry glanced up at her. She looked different too. Her hair was longer and curlier – and even redder, if that was possible. She was taller, and it looked as though her hips had filled out a little.

She was staring back at Harry with a mirrored expression of interest on her face. Harry was suddenly very glad for all those anger management sessions he'd spent boxing in the Dursleys' basement. "Hello, Harry!" she greeted. "How was your summer holiday?"

"It was fine," he answered, finding his voice. "Er, how was yours?"

"Uneventful," she replied, eying him up and down. There was a spark in her eyes that he hadn't noticed before. "Well, I just came in to grab some napkins." She held up some squares of cloth, then headed back out the door.

Harry turned back to the table, and Ron was grinning madly away. "D'you like Ginny?" he asked. Hermione immediately kicked him under the table, but it was too late, the question had already been asked.

"Of course I like Ginny," Harry replied. "But not... not like _that_."

"Why not?" Ron questioned, looking offended. "Is she not good enough? Pretty enough? I know she's not Cho, but..."

Wanting to immediately steer the subject of the conversation away from Cho Chang, Harry interrupted, "Isn't she going out with Dean?"

Ron laughed. "Harry, that was just something she said to get me riled up on the train ride home," he said. "She didn't really choose Dean. It was just a joke."

"Shows what you know," Hermione declared. Ron looked shocked, but before he could say anything, Hermione lifted a hand to silence him. "What kind of questions did you have about the letter, Harry?"

Harry thought back to two nights before, when he had re-read his O.W.L. results in his bedroom. "The form is easy enough to fill out," he said, "but I don't understand. Why do we only sign up for five classes? Won't we have loads of free time?"

"We have loads of free time because we have loads of homework," Hermione answered. "Twice the homework, twice as difficult. If you thought last year was bad, sixth year is even worse."

"Some people – like Fred and George – only take four classes," Ron said.

"But if we're going to be Aurors," Hermione said quietly, "we're going to need at least five N.E.W.T.s, which means we need five classes. I thought about taking six, but I don't want to stretch myself too thin."

"Oh, what's the point?" Ron said helplessly. "I'm not even going to get to take Snape's stupid Potions class. Maybe it's a sign I should give up."

"Do you really want to be an Auror, Ron?" Hermione demanded. "I mean, do you _really _want to, or are you just saying that because Harry and I want to?"

Ron frowned. "What kind of question is that? Of course I want to be an Auror!"

"Then stop whining!" Hermione cried. "This will work out, I know it will. But in the meantime, you should figure out what classes you're going to take."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm going to take the same ones as you," Harry muttered. "Except potions, of course." It was hard to picture being in Potions without Ron. Snape would have to take him into the N.E.W.T. class. He had to.

"Well, McGonagall told me that students who aspired to be future Aurors needed at least five classes, and four of them had to be Potions, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Charms." Hermione produced a quill from somewhere and began checking off the classes on her form. "Oh dear, I guess this comes down to choosing between taking Ancient Runes and Arithmacy."

"I'm not taking either of those," Ron said quickly. "I was thinking more along the lines of Care of Magical Creatures or something."

"All three of you should take Muggle Studies," Mr. Weasley said, entering the room, leading some chairs outside with his wand. "Especially this year." Harry watched as the chairs danced out the door and into place at the huge table, which Mrs. Weasley was now filling with food.

"Hey, that's a great idea!" Ron said. "Muggle Studies is an easy class – it's an easy good grade."

"But can we take Muggle Studies? We've never had that class before," Harry said, frowning.

"Sure we can." Ron pointed at the form. "It says the only requirement is an O.W.L. We passed a lot of O.W.L.s. We definitely qualify. And besides, you've lived as a Muggle with the Dursleys – you'll have no problem."

Harry considered it. Any class where a grade was easy sounded too good to be true. But maybe Ron was right. He'd lived as a Muggle for the first eleven years of his life; learning about it all over again wouldn't be that hard. "I'm in," Harry said.

"Excellent. What do you say, 'Mione?" Ron asked.

"No way," she replied. "I already took that class. I'd be studying practically the same thing all over again."

"That's the beauty of it!" Ron said. "Just think: an exam you don't have to study for."

"No thanks. I think I'll stick to a real education, thank you very much."

Harry looked at his own form and checked off the classes he wanted to take. It would be odd, not having Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid, or sleeping through a lesson on the History of Magic with the ghostly Professor Binns. "Do you think Hagrid will mind we're not taking his class?" Harry asked.

Ron shook his head. "It's only a year off. Wait 'til seventh."


	4. Ginny's Ambush

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**Ginny's Ambush**

The first thing Harry noticed about the Weasley dining table was that it had an extra place setting. He thought that maybe it was for Percy, but when the family actually gathered around the meal outside, he was glad to see someone else occupied it.

Fleur Delacour, the gorgeous fair-haired beauty and graduate of Beauxbatons Academy, took the extra seat at the table. She was flashing a magnificent engagement ring on her left hand. The diamond was large and cut into the shape of a dragon.

Bill was sitting next to her, a smile constantly plastered on his face. "She didn't work on her 'Eeenglish' much," Ron whispered to Harry, "but she sure did learn how to work one over on Bill."

Harry thought for sure that the diamond on Fleur's finger brought out the veela in her, because as he ate, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. She was absolutely stunning. He noticed that she had the same effect on the twins, and that both Ginny and Hermione didn't pay much attention when she spoke. They would glare at her when she wasn't looking, though.

Harry told Mrs. Weasley that the meal was excellent. The family sat around listening to stories from Bill and Charlie's adventures. Bill worked for the wizarding bank, Gringotts, and Charlie worked in Romania with dragons. Both jobs seemed very exciting to Harry, but both of their tales had convinced him that he still wanted to be an Auror. Bill admitted that there was a lot of paperwork with his job and Charlie said that even he spent most of his time recovering from dragon wounds.

As the sun disappeared beneath the western horizon, Harry sleepily noticed the shuffle of plates and food being finished off or wrapped up to be sent into the house. With the distraction, Ron caught Harry's attention. "You and Gin should go for an after-supper walk," he suggested quietly. "To help your digestion."

Harry frowned. "Just what are you up to, Ron? Trying to play matchmaker?" he hissed. And Harry knew that walking around with a girl who had previously had a crush on him would not do anything but make his digestion much more painful.

"Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, "would you mind helping Ginny put the table back into the shed?" She pulled her wand out of her apron pocket and with a mere mutter of a spell and a flick of her wand, all the food was wrapped tightly in the tablecloth, which Mr. Weasley threw over his back like a knapsack and carried into the house.

"Looks like mum's going to play matchmaker for me." Ron chuckled and followed Hermione inside, but only after giving him a wink.

Harry was startled to suddenly find himself alone in the dark with Ginny Weasley.

Silently, the two of them folded up the large table and hauled it inside the small shed in the Weasley's backyard. Harry was glad it was dark, because then she wouldn't notice he was sweating in the cool night. Whether it was from putting the table away or being around Ginny, he wasn't sure.

Ginny closed the shed door and locked it with the padlock. The two of them stood in the quiet darkness for a moment. Harry cleared his throat. "Well, we'd better get inside." He took a step towards the house when he suddenly felt Ginny clasp his hand and pull her towards him.

"What's the rush?" she asked coyly. He could see her brown eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

Harry gulped. This was not happening. Last year, Ginny was very much over her childhood crush on him. Why was she suddenly trying to resurrect it? Things were uncomfortable enough between them already.

"Are you afraid of me, Harry?" Ginny asked, letting go of his hand.

He thought for a moment. "No, just girls in general."

Ginny giggled. "That could be a problem."

Harry sighed. "Look, Ginny, I don't know what's going on here, but..." His voice trailed off. Could he really tell his best friend's little sister that he had no feelings for her at all? The absolute truth, he was almost positive, would hurt Ginny. And as much as he wanted her to be done with him, he didn't want to break her heart.

Suddenly, he was very aware of her breathing. She turned towards him, and he could once again see that spark in her eyes that he'd missed all those years before. And without warning, without even time to react or move or push her away, she grabbed the sides of his head and laid her lips on his in a fierce and clumsy kiss.

_What the hell is she doing?_

After what felt like five minutes in an uncomfortable lip-lock, Ginny pulled away from him. Her cheeks were flushed and she was gasping for breath. She was silent for a moment, and appeared to contemplating something. "Harry, you have nothing to worry about," she said breathlessly, then turned on her heel and sauntered into the house, her red hair bobbing behind her.

Nothing to worry about? If anything, Ginny's goodnight kiss gave him a whole new set of worries.

Harry didn't sleep well that night. He kept having visions of Ginny sneaking into Ron's room and ambushing him. His insides were churning from the amazing dinner. He guessed he must have eaten too much, but whatever it was, he didn't fall into a heavy sleep until sometime after the first rays of light streamed through the windows in Ron's bedroom.

When he finally woke up for good, Ron's light snores were gone and Harry was in his bedroom alone. He glanced at his new watch. It was already ten-thirty. Embarrassed about sleeping in, he quickly got dressed. He attempted to do something with his hair to make it lie flat, but it was a hopeless case. He slipped his glasses on. _This is as good as it's going to get_.

He caught his reflection in Ron's full-length mirror. He had to admit that he did look good in his new Muggle clothes. It was nice to have jeans that fit him properly and shirts that didn't wind down to his knees. He couldn't help but notice how much he looked like his father, especially after the way his body had changed over the summer. Except for her startling green eyes and the scar on his forehead, he looked exactly like James did when he was fifteen.

_No wonder Snape hates me so much_, Harry thought bitterly.

Without taking any more time to ponder his appearance, he quietly slipped out of Ron's bedroom and into the Burrow's narrow stairwell. It was eerily quiet in the house. There was no howling from the ghoul in the attic or explosions from Fred and George's bedroom. He felt a shiver down his spine. Maybe something terrible had happened?

But as Harry climbed further and further down the stairs, he suddenly came to the realization that today was his sixteenth birthday. Before he hit the bottom landing he broke into a jog. When he reached the kitchen, he was greeted by glowing faces and the delicious smell of pancakes and pies.

"Surprise!"

Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Lupin were gathered around the kitchen table. There was a stack of presents next to an empty chair at the head of the table.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, getting up from her seat and hugging him tightly.

"Thanks," Harry replied automatically. "What's all this for?"

"Why, it's the beginning of your all-day birthday party!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "We all thought it was about time that you celebrate your birthday with a properly, and not alone with your wretched aunt and uncle." She hurried over to the stove and picked up a tea kettle. "It was Ginny's idea, actually."

Somehow, that didn't surprise Harry. He glanced over at her. She smiled sheepishly.

"Come and have a seat," Lupin said, patting the empty chair next to him. He was looking a little better than the few days before. Harry wondered, briefly, why he was here and then he realized that everyone just assumed that Lupin was to take Sirius's place in his life. Harry felt a rush of anger inside of him, but quickly let it go. The Weasleys had gone to all trouble of throwing him a party; he wasn't about to let his temper ruin it.

Harry sat down in the vacant seat. "Where is everybody else?"

"Arthur and Charlie went off to the Ministry – I daresay that they'll be having a chat with Percy." Mrs. Weasley bit her lower lip as she filled Harry's mug with tea. "Fred and George are gone to their shop in Diagon Alley," she said with a bit of resentment in her voice. Harry wondered, feeling guilty, if she new yet about where the funds had come from him for the twins' joke shop, but she didn't give a second glance to Harry as she filled Remus's cup. "And Bill and Fleur have gone off sightseeing."

"I doubt they'll be seeing much other than each other," Ron said. Ginny stifled a laugh.

"They were here earlier, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, "but I'm afraid you just slept in too late. How did you sleep, by the way? Ron said that you'd been tossing and turning until morning."

"Er, well, I... I slept all right," Harry lied. He didn't know what to say. He tried very hard not to make eye contact with Ginny. It was her fault he couldn't sleep, after all.

He suddenly felt a hand on his arm and looked up. Professor Lupin was staring at his scar, concerned. "Any... funny dreams lately?" he questioned.

Again, Harry felt ashamed. His stupid scar. He hated the lines of worry all over Lupin's face. "No, Prof – Remus. I didn't have any dreams about _him_. I guess I just ate too much, that's all."

"Oh dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "Well, I hope you're hungry now. We've got poached eggs and pancakes and a few mince pies." She gestured to the table full of food.

"Don't worry mum, I'm starved," Ron announced. "I'll eat Harry's portion."

Not wanting to be rude, and actually feeling emptiness in the pit of his stomach, he raised his plate and helped himself to some pancakes. "No way, Ron. I think I'll be able to eat my own portion, thank you very much."

Mrs. Weasley looked pleased as everyone dug into breakfast. Harry found that he was quite hungry, and it did turn out to be a very nice birthday breakfast. Remus told some stories about when he went into a Muggle pet store and saw some of the vile treats they had for dogs. "Imagine – bones that claim to whiten a mutt's teeth." Mrs. Weasley even talked about how everyone at the ministry loved Fred and George's new joke shop. Harry was glad to see she was taking their business venture lightly.

"Are we going to get to visit the joke shop before the term starts?" Harry asked eagerly.

"I'm afraid not," Mrs. Weasley answered. "George and Fred have run into some problems. They may not be open for a while."

"What problems?"

"Stupid Zonko's," Ron replied. "They think that Fred and George stole their idea for the fake wands. They were working on a prototype that turned into a rooster while Fred and George's turned into hens." He shook his head in disbelief. "Now they're being investigated by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement until further notice."

"They've been spending day and night cleaning up the store to be perfect for the inspection next month," Ginny said.

"But maybe at Christmastime, dear," Mrs. Weasley suggested.

Harry couldn't help but smile. So he wouldn't have to spend another lonely Christmas at Hogwarts, either. He would have a proper Christmas celebration too.

After another cup of tea, Harry opened his birthday gifts. He received a giant bag of Bertie Blotts Every Flavor Beans from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and an "I Love New York" t-shirt from Hermione. "It's what all the tourist Muggles in America were wearing," she added excitedly.

Ginny gave him a patch in the shape of the Gryffindor Lion to put on his Quidditch bag. Ron got him some of Fred and George's Skiving Snackboxes. He got a few of all four flavors: Fever Fudge, Fainting Fancies, Puking Pastilles, and Nosebleed Nougat. "For one of those days when McGonagall's voice is just too annoying to handle," Ron whispered, avoiding looks of annoyance from his mother. The twins themselves got him a sweatshirt supporting the Puddlemere United Quidditch team, who their old captain, Oliver Wood, played for.

There were also a few gifts from owls that had arrived earlier that morning. Dobby the house-elfhad given him a scarf with Gryffindor colors. Apparently he was really improving on his knitting skills. Hagrid had given him a case of Honeydukes chocolate, with an odd letter on the inside.

"What's it say?" Ron asked, watching Harry with anticipation.

"It says that the other half of my gift is waiting for me at Hogwarts. _She's_ waiting for me at Hogwarts." Confused, Harry read the letter again.

"She?" Hermione questioned. "Oh no, you don't think it's some kind of animal, do you?"

Ron shrugged. "What else could it be? I bet he got you your very own blast-ended skrewt." They all laughed at the joke, however, Harry felt a little uneasy about the idea of Hagrid giving him a pet.But the best gift was from Remus. He got Harry a small, white, glowing orb that fit into the palm of his hand. It reminded Harry of a miniature crystal ball. "What's this?"

"Hold it up to your eye," Remus said.

Harry hesitated for a moment, and then lifted the small white orb to his right eye. His glasses got in the way, so he quickly took them off and used his good eye to peer inside the globe, as though looking through a telescope. At first, he didn't see anything except bright light, but then a light gray circle appeared inside of the globe.

"It's a Moon Guide. It tells you when the full moon is going to be. The darker the circle gets, the closer to the full moon," Remus explained. "And when it gets black, well... that's the night."

Harry grinned. "Wicked. Thanks, Remus." He leaned over and gave Remus a hug. And somehow, it felt natural.

In odd ways, Remus did remind Harry of Sirius. Both were built about the same, though Remus was thinner around the full moon. Remus had long hair, but it was curly at the ends. Sirius's hair had been straight and jet-black. Both of them had dark eyes. But the most familiar thing about Remus was that when he hugged Harry, it felt a lot like he was hugging Sirius. And he found comfort in this, though it did make a lump swell in the back of his throat.

"Well, now that all the gifts have been opened," Mrs. Weasley said, "why don't you all go outside and find something to do while I clean this place up."

"I'll help," Hermione offered, but Mrs. Weasley held up a hand to silence her.

"No, dear, it'll only take me a minute. Go on now, all of you. The summer holiday won't last forever." And with a playful shove, Ginny and Hermione left the kitchen.

"Hey, Harry, you should get your broom," Ron suggested. "We could work on some Quidditch."

"Sounds great," Harry replied. "I'll run up to the room and get it." He turned and began to sprint up the stairway to Ron's room, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to find Remus following him.

"About that Moon Guide, Harry," he said, "there's something else it does. Though I didn't know if it would be wise for everybody to know about it." He glanced down the stairs. "It's been bewitched to do something else as well. Can I see it?"

"Sure." Harry pulled the orb out of his pocket, where he had put it for safekeeping.

Remus took it from him, produced his wand from his pocket, and said quietly, "I solemnly swear I only want to watch." The orb glowed brighter for a moment, and then he handed it back to Harry. The words he spoke reminded Harry of a similar item that Lupin had been associated with: the Marauder's Map. "Now look inside."

Harry slipped his glasses off again and peered inside the orb. He gasped. Now he could see Remus and himself, standing on the second floor landing of the Weasley's staircase. "Wow," Harry breathed. "This is amazing. How – how does it work?"

Remus slipped his hand along the collar of his shirt and pulled out a chain. There was an even smaller orb attached to it. "It's sort of a... surveillance item. When I wear this, you can see me. Anytime you're wondering what I'm up to, you can use this."

Harry was taken aback. Remus must really trust him to give him such a gift. "Remus, are you sure I should have this?"

"The person who had it before you, well, she didn't want it anymore," he said bitterly.

"Who?" Harry asked. _She?_

Lupin smiled sadly and ignored his question. He took the orb back from Harry. "Now, to turn it off, all you need to say is, 'I have seen all there is to be seen.'" Remus flicked his wand again, and the orb seemed to dim. He handed it back to Harry with a wink. "It's another gift from the Messengers Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Progs."

Harry grinned. "Thank you so much, Remus. But isn't this sort of, well, an invasion of privacy?"

"If I'm doing something I don't want you to see, I'll be sure to take the chain off," Remus laughed. "Now, I don't think you should go around telling people what I gave you, but I trust Ron and Hermione. As for young Ginny..."

"Don't worry, Remus," Harry said, his stomach forming knots at the mention of her name. "This gift is safe with me."

"Good. I knew I could count on you. Now how about that game of Quidditch?"


	5. Sweet Sixteen

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**Sweet Sixteen**

Harry and Ron practiced their Quidditch moves so intensely that even Oliver Wood would have been proud. It was only at lunchtime when Mrs. Weasley stopped them that they had time to catch their breath.

Everyone returned home shortly after lunch. Bill, Fleur, Charlie, and Ginny joined Harry and Ron in the air. When the twins came back from Diagon Alley, they got out their clubs, and it wasn't before long that there was a Quidditch match in the Weasley's backyard. Even Remus and Mr. Weasley found some old Shooting Star brooms and took to the skies. Mrs. Weasley was refereeing, but Hermione sat in a grassy patch near the makeshift hoops, reading a copy of _The Daily Prophet_.

"C'mon, Hermione!" Ron cried from his position as keeper, not too above her head. "I'm sure dad would give you a few minutes on his broom. Maybe we could even dig out another one from somewhere in the attic."

"No thank you," she replied. "I think I'll just stay on the ground."

"Oh, don't be such a spoil sport, Hermione," Ron scolded. "I've always wanted to see how good you'd be at Quidditch."

"No thank you," Hermione repeated.

"Are you scared?" Ron taunted. "Afraid that I might be better at something than you are?"

"No," Hermione said. "In fact, I know that there are things you're better at than I am."

"Like what?" Ron questioned, genuinely curious, swooping down to Hermione's level.

"Like making a fool of yourself," she said, pointing at Charlie as he hit the Quaffle through one of the hoops Ron was supposed to be guarding. He cursed, glaring at Hermione.

"Hey, Ron!" Bill called from the other side of the field. "Stop flirting and start playing your position!"

Red-faced and at a loss for words, Ron retreated to the safety of guarding the hoops. Harry, however, was way up in the air, keeping his eyes peeled for the golden snitch. Ginny was not far behind him. He wondered if she was planning on trying out for the Quidditch team again. She mentioned something last year about one of the vacant chaser spots.

Harry couldn't wait to be back on the Gryffindor house team. This ruddy Quidditch game was not like one at Hogwarts, but he didn't care. It had been so long since he'd been on a broom that he couldn't think of a better way to spend his birthday.

There was only one injury: George hit Bill square in the face with a Bludger when he was watching Fleur score a goal to pay him back for teasing Ron. After a few laughs from the game below, Harry finally spotted the Snitch glinting in the sunlight above the shed.

In a flash, Harry took off and gained some speed as he chased after the snitch. He was vaguely aware of Ginny behind him, working her way up to his level. He thought, briefly, of letting her grab the snitch and take the win. But it was his birthday, and he knew that if he let her win, Ginny would be insulted.

Harry was closing in on the snitch. Five yards. Three yards. Four feet. And in a matter of seconds, his fingers had closed around the wiggling snitch, and the game was over.

Ron, Fred, Bill, and Remus cheered as Harry soared to the ground. They all patted him on the back as Mr. Weasley broke out into a round of _For He's a Jolly Good Fellow_. Charlie tousled his hair a little and laughed. "Lucky catch, hey Potter?"

Ginny came over to Harry and shook his hand. "I thought it was only right to let you catch it," she said, grinning. "It being your birthday and all."

"Sure you did." Harry smiled. Things didn't feel too awkward now. In fact, he felt a lot better than he did the day before. Maybe it was because it was his birthday, or because he'd wasted an entire afternoon playing nothing but Quidditch, or perhaps because Remus was around. Either way, Harry didn't care. Maybe being an honorary Weasley wouldn't be as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. Maybe he did fit in a family somewhere.

After another dinner spent dining outside, Mrs. Weasley brought out a homemade cake with Why Can't'ya Blow 'Em Out? Candles, an experimental product from the twins. As hard as he tried, Harry couldn't them out, and was actually quite winded from his endeavor. Ultimately, the candles lit the frosting on fire and Mr. Weasley managed to save the cake, although it did taste a bit like charcoal. However, Harry enjoyed it nevertheless.

To make up for the cake, Fred and George got out some of their Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-BangsThe enchanted fireworks paraded through the yard. There was a set of long-tailed rockets that emitted brilliant pink sparks. Everyone sat around "oohing" and "ahhing" with delight. Then somebody brought out the Wizard's Wireless, a device like a Muggle radio, and turned it on so that the music filled the backyard.

Mrs. Weasley, looking a bit flushed from after dinner drinks, smiled brightly at Harry. "So Harry, are you sweet sixteen and never been kissed?"

"What?"

Ron laughed. "No, he's been kissed."

If looks could kill, Harry would have been spending the rest of his natural life in Azkaban from the look he shot Ron.

"Ooh," Fleur cooed. "Who 'ave you keessed, 'Arry?"

The last thing Harry wanted on his sixteenth birthday was to be discussing his love life with her. He shrugged. "Well, you kissed me. After the second task."

"Oh yeah," Ron said. "That's right. Hey Bill, I got a kiss from Fleur long before you did."

Bill cast a suspicious look at Fleur, but Harry could see his eyes were still smiling. "What's this all about?"

"Zat was not a real keess," Fleur replied immediately. "It z'was only on ze cheek."

"I suppose," Harry agreed. Then Hermione would have kissed both him and Ron loads of times.

"So who was it, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley questioned. "You've got to tell us."

"Well, I... I sort of had a thing with Cho Chang last year..." his voice trailed off. Harry tried desperately not to look at Ginny. There was no way he'd mention that he'd kissed her only the day before. He was very glad that he hadn't felt the need to confess to Ron last night that Ginny had kissed him.

"Cho?" Fred said suddenly. "You kissed her?"

Harry felt George pat him on the back. "Impressive. She's absolutely gorgeous, and what a great pair of... Ouch!" Mr. Weasley had reached over and slapped him on the back of the head. "I was going to say eyes! I swear!"

Everybody at the table laughed. "Anybody else, Harry dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Mr. Weasley stood up as the song on the wireless changed. "Molly, I believe this is our song."

"What are you talking about Arthur? You know perfectly well..." but she stopped objecting as Mr. Weasley took her by both hands and led her to an open space near the garden. The two of them began dancing.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He had a feeling that if Mr. Weasley knew that Ginny had ambushed him last night and kissed him, there would be nothing he could say that would stop him from beating the life out of Harry.

Bill and Fleur joined Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Harry suddenly felt the same anxiety he'd had at the Yule Ball during his fourth year at Hogwarts. Surely, not everyone was going to pair up. There weren't enough girls. And he couldn't help but notice that he, besides Lupin, was the only guy at the Burrow who wasn't related to Ginny.

He glanced in Ginny's direction, but she was talking animatedly to Fred and George while pointing at the fireworks. There was a sparkling rocket still dancing around in the sunset.

Harry caught Ron looking in Hermione's direction. When she turned to him, he looked away, a hint of red in his cheeks. Ron wasn't the most charming when it came to things of a romantic nature. Hermione looked away, and then Ron turned to look back at her. Harry was just about to shout at the two of them to get a room, when Ron said hoarsely. "D'you want to dance, 'Mione?"

Hermione's head turned, and she held out a hand for him to take. "It's about time you asked, you stupid prat," she said affectionately. When Ron pulled her closer to him, Harry thought he could hear her say, "I've only been waiting since the Yule Ball."

Harry felt a pang of jealousy in his gut, along with some apprehension. Seeing Hermione and Ron together stirred up feelings inside of him that he didn't know he had. But it also made him squirm at the thought of being romantic with a girl. Having to dance with her, having to hold her hand. Granted, he didn't have much experience, however he had never been comfortable enough with a girl to really take any romantic gestures in stride.

"Women," Remus said, plopping into Ron's vacant seat next to Harry. "Who needs 'em?"

"Exactly what I say, Remus," Charlie agreed, sitting on Harry's other side. "Can't live with them, better off without them."

Harry grinned. The two of them were reading his mind. He just couldn't believe that all the effort one needed to put into a romantic relationship was really worth the outcome. "So Bill and Fleur are really getting married, huh?"

"Yeah, probably this time next year," Charlie replied, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head. "Marriage. The mere thought makes me want to run away. Lifelong bachelorhood sounds like a good thing to me."

Lupin laughed. Harry had never really thought about being married before. Hell, he didn't even know if he'd live to be seventeen, let alone to get married.

"It's a waste of a man's time," Remus growled. "You spend day and night thinking of them, being with them, and in the end, you end up alone and poor." Harry laughed, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Remus was speaking from experience.

"Take it from us, Harry," Charlie said, "you don't need to be in love to be happy."

Harry watched the couples dance. Bill was twirling Fleur with flair. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked like they were attempting to Tango. Hermione seemed to be leading a flat-footed Ron to the music. "But Ron's not in love."

"No, he's not in love," Charlie answered. "But look at him. He's totally whipped."

ï¨ ï¨ ï¨

The end of the summer holiday moved quickly for Harry since he'd been staying at the Burrow. Remus visited him off and on, though Harry suspected it had as much to do with giving messages about the Order of the Phoenix to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as it had to do with visiting him. He did enjoy the company, however.

There was not much news about Voldemort. Harry got the impression that he was lying low again, waiting to spring his death eaters out of Azkaban now that the dementors had deserted the wizarding prison. There was one night when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, as well as Bill and Charlie, had gone out and Fleur was left at home to "baby-zit," as she put it. Harry was almost positive that there was a meeting of the Order. He wondered where the meeting was, or maybe even if he would be able to spy in on it with Remus's birthday gift. However, he didn't bother trying because he knew that Remus wouldn't be so careless as to leave it on during a meeting.

But Sirius would have been, Harry thought with a sad smile.

After receiving their letters of school supplies from Hogwarts, they had all taken a trip to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies, and Harry got to see the outside of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, located at number ninety-three. It was painted a brilliant shade of red that matched the twins' hair. There was a sign on the door that said "Closed: By Order of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

And before Harry had time to catch his breath, the morning when they had to catch the Hogwarts Express rolled around. Mrs. Weasley opened the door to Ron's bedroom and yelled at them to wake up and get some breakfast before they missed the train.

There was a lot of commotion at the window, and Harry rolled over to see Ron reaching for a hooting Pigwidgeon, who could barely contain his excitement as Ron untied a letter from the owl's foot. "Knock it off, Pig," Ron muttered sleepily. "Blimey, my hands don't work this early in the morning."

Harry consulted his watch on the bed table beside him. "Actually, it's not that early. It's already ten o'clock."

"Ten o'clock?!" Ron cried. "I've still got to pack my broom!" He dismissed Pigwidgeon with an owl treat and took off downstairs in his pajamas.

Harry quickly dressed and made his bed. He searched Ron's room for anything that might be his, but most of clutter was Ron's. Harry couldn't imagine having enough possessions that he had to leave some of them behind while he went to Hogwarts.

With a small amount of sentiment, Harry said goodbye to Ron's bedroom and pulled his trunk downstairs. He went to the kitchen windowsill and collected Hedwig. She had enjoyed the free roaming at the Burrow and was a little reluctant to get back in her cage. But Harry assured her that he was only taking her to Hogwarts, where she'd be free to hunt all night again.

Harry took a seat at the kitchen table and grabbed a piece of toast and buttered it, then helped himself to a glass of orange juice. Hermione sat down in the seat next to him. "Good morning," she said brightly. Harry thought that the first day back at Hogwarts was her favorite day of the year – except for the first day of exam week.

"Morning," he replied, eagerly eating his toast.

"All set?" she questioned. Harry nodded. "Where's Ron?"

Harry gestured outside to where Ron was sprinting outside of the shed in the backyard, carrying his broomstick. He was still wearing his pajamas when he rounded back into the house.

"He's running a bit behind schedule," Harry replied, grinning.

Somehow, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley managed to make it out of the house and to King's Cross Station with only five minutes to spare. They had squeezed all of their belongings onto two trolleys. Ron was steering one, Harry the other. They loitered between platforms nine and ten for a moment, until Mrs. Weasley whispered, "All right, Ron, you go first with Hermione." She gave both of them a hug.

As inconspicuously as possible, Ron and Hermione both ran at the pillar that stood between the two platforms and disappeared inside. Mrs. Weasley leaned over and gave Ginny a kiss. "Have a good year, Gin," she whispered. "Be sure to write. I'll see you at Christmas." Then she turned to Harry. "And you too dear. Don't be afraid to send and owl now and then. And _be good_," she added. She slipped Harry a kiss on his cheek and told them to go ahead.

"Need a hand with the cart?" Ginny asked.

"No, I've got it," he replied. Harry took a deep breath. "Ready?" Ginny nodded. The two of them took off at top speed towards the pillar, when suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a woman take a step in his path. He quickly swerved to the side, his shoulder brushing against the hard brick wall and ripping his shirt.

"Are you all right?" Ginny asked.

Harry felt the tear in his shirt. There was only a scrape, nothing major. "I'm fine. Do you think she saw us?"

Ginny shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Mum will take care of it if she did. C'mon, or we won't be able to get a seat."

And without a second thought, Harry and Ginny pushed the trolley to one of the baggage handlers, who slipped the trunks onto the train. Harry and Ginny met up with Hermione and Ron, who were already sitting in a compartment in the back of the train with Neville Longbottom.

"Hello Harry! Hello Ginny!" Neville greeted as he slid over in his seat to make some room for them. "How was your holiday?"

"It was great," Harry replied automatically. "How was yours?"

"Excellent," Neville said, his eyes lighting up. "As a reward for bravery for – well, for last year," he said nervously, "Gran took me all over Europe to see some of the strangest plants that exist. We took a tour of the desert plants of Arabia and we even went over to China to see the Great Wall of Fungi. Which, well, technically isn't a plant, but it was great fun."

"That's nice, Neville," Ginny said. "What else did you..."

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Ron interrupted. He took a piece of parchment out of his pocket. Harry recognized it as the letter he'd received this morning. He unfolded it and handed it to Hermione. "I got this from McGonagall. She said that I'm supposed to meet with Snape in his office after the feast tonight."

"Sounds like fun," Harry muttered.

"Yeah, I'm really looking forward to it," he replied sarcastically. "I bet he's looking forward to laughing in my face too."

"Ron, you don't know that he's going to say no," Hermione said.

"Oh yes I do," Ron replied. "There's no way Snape is going to bend the rules and let me take his N.E.W.T. class because I didn't get an Outstanding grade."

"You're trying to get into Professor Snape's class?" Neville questioned. "Why?"

Ron sighed. "Because, well, I've been thinking about becoming an Auror, and the only way the Ministry will accept you is if you test well on the N.E.W.T. exam in Potions."

"Oh yeah, I've thought about becoming auror too," Neville said.

Stunned, Ron nearly choked on his own air supply. "Don't tell me you got an Outstanding O.W.L. in Potions, Neville, or I'll throw myself onto these train tracks."

"Oh no, of course not. I barely passed," he replied. "But Gran says that sometimes the Ministry will train people who don't have N.E.W.T. experience in Potions.

"I think that Snape is a terrible teacher for only taking students who have received an Outstanding on their O.W.L.s," Hermione said. "Everybody has their strengths and their weaknesses."

"I don't mind," Neville said. "I wanted to take Herbology anyway. Professor Sprout says that I show some real promise."

Harry wasn't surprised. Herbology had always been Neville's best subject. Ron turned to him, his eyes cast down on the floor. "Er, the letter says something else as well..."

"What else did McGonagall say?" Harry questioned. He didn't like the like the expression on Ron's face, or the way he cheeks were slightly red, or the way he wouldn't look Harry in the eyes.

Suddenly, a head popped into their compartment. It was Seamus Finnigan, a fellow sixth-year. "Are we interrupting anything?"

"No, not at all," Ron replied brightly. Harry frowned. What else did the letter say? And why didn't Ron want to tell him?

"Who's we?" Hermione asked.

"I wanted to introduce you to me little cousin," Seamus said. He entered the compartment, tugging on the arm of a girl who didn't look a day over ten years old. She had dark, curly hair that was cut short. Ringlets fell over her face, covering her eyes. She pushed her hair away to reveal even darker eyes.

"This is Ron Weasley, his sister Ginny, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom." Seamus gestured to each one of them. "And this," he said, pointing at Harry, "this is _Harry Potter_."

Harry winced, expecting a flood of "oohs" and "awws" from the little girl. Or even worse: a request to see his scar. But on the contrary, she looked confused. "Right. Who are you again?" she asked.

"Who are _you_?" Ron questioned, taken aback by the lack of the little girl's knowledge. Harry was amazed that there was a person in the wizarding world who didn't know who he was. He was beginning to like Seamus's little cousin.

"Sorry," Seamus apologized. "This is Nora Finnigan. She's on me da's side." Harry remembered that Seamus's dad was a Muggle, and that his mother hadn't told him about until after they were married. "Remember, I told you about him. He's the one who stopped_ You-Know-Who _all those years ago. He's got the scar. Can she see the scar, Harry?"

Harry stifled a groan. "Sure." He lifted the hair off his forehead. Nora took a step closer to him and eyed his scar. Harry counted the seconds until she looked away, until he realized that she wasn't looking at his scar anymore, but his eyes.

No one had done _that_ before.


	6. The Fate of Kreacher

**CHAPTER SIX**

**The Fate of Kreacher**

"I liked her," Harry announced after Seamus and Nora had left their compartment. "She was really... confident."

"Really weird," Ron replied.

"I liked her too," Hermione said. "She reminded me a little bit of Luna."

Ron turned to Hermione, studying her. "I didn't know you liked Luna."

Hermione shrugged. "She's grown on me. We've been exchanging letters all summer. She wanted to hear all about New York City."

"At least _somebody_ did. Ouch!" Ron winced as Hermione punched him in the shoulder.

"Oh, isn't this sweet. One big, happy, Weasley family," a familiar voice snarled outside the compartment.

"Malfoy," Harry spat. He was standing in the doorway, with his two goons Crabbe and Goyle right behind him. They were either his boyfriends or his bodyguards; he never went anywhere without them. His hair seemed even paler than usual, slicked back in a greasy wad, and his nose seemed to have grown a bit longer over the summer holidays.

"Get the hell out of here," Ron demanded.

"No need to be rude, Weasley," Malfoy replied. "I was just stopping by to discuss what your mum and dad may have left at the Grimmauld Place."

Ginny let out a quiet gasp, and Harry felt her grab onto his knee. "I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy," Ron retorted.

"Oh, I think you do," Malfoy said. "In fact, I think there was a little bit of Potter's filth there as well. At least according to the late house elf."

Hermione sucked in her breath. She was very partial to house elves. "What do you mean, the late house elf?"

"Ah yes, you always were soft-hearted for your _equals_, Granger," Malfoy drawled. "Kreacher – was that his name? He certainly wasn't very fond of you. Spilled all of your secrets, I'm afraid."

Ginny's hand was gripping Harry's knee tightly, and if it hadn't been there, Harry was quite sure that he would have jumped up and strangled Malfoy with his bare hands.

"It was too bad he fell into the fire while making dinner one evening. I guess he just couldn't catch his footing after I pushed him. A pity that we couldn't find enough of his head in the charred remains to hang up on the wall in the hallway," he laughed.

"_You bastard_!" Hermione cried. Harry had never seen her so angry before. It was at that point that he actually feared for Malfoy's life. Nobody messed with Hermione's house elves. Nobody.

She sprung out of her seat on the train, and then cursed at both Ron and Neville for holding her back. She was clawing at them, trying to get to Malfoy. At first, Draco looked worried, but then he laughed as Hermione struggled in Ron's arms.

"Too bad you've got your boyfriend here to take care of you," Malfoy said. "I'd love to have my way with you. I'd show you who the real wizard is here. And I'm not talking about dueling, Granger," he added, licking his lips. "At least not with _this_ wand."

In a flash, Ron stood up from his seat on the train, and this time it took Hermione, Neville, and Harry to hold him back. Malfoy laughed and gestured to his two goons. "Let's get out of here, before Weasley wets his pants trying to get past Potter's groupies."

As he turned to leave, Harry shouted, "How's your dad, Malfoy? Enjoying his time in Azkaban?"

Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks. Harry saw him finger his wand in the pocket of his robes. He turned on Harry, his wand raised and ready. "Care to ask me again, Potter?"

"Now, now, just what's going on here, boys?" the witch asked as she passed the compartment with her trolley full of sweets. She glared at Malfoy, her dimpled face scowling.

Malfoy's eyes were still fixed intently upon Harry, and Harry's stare didn't waiver. He would love to take on Malfoy in the train and put him in his place once and for all, even in the presence of the witch.

Neville's voice piped up out of no where. "N-nothing ma'am," he said, letting go of Ron, who calmly took his seat on the train. "We were just... catching up."

She eyed Malfoy's wand. "I see. Well, put your wand away please, young man," she said to Draco. "We haven't arrived at Hogwarts yet. Anything from the trolley?" she asked.

Everyone shook their head in agreement, and the compartment was silent until the squeaking of her wheels vanished down the hallway.

"This isn't over," Malfoy spat. "I'd watch your backs this year if I were you. My father may be in Azkaban, but it won't be long before..." his voice trailed off as he glanced in the direction that the witch had gone. "It won't be long before he's not anymore." Malfoy tucked his wand back into his robes, and then turned on his heel and out of their compartment.

Ginny sighed in relief and sat back in her seat. "D'you think he was serious?" Harry asked. "About knowing all of our secrets?"

Ron shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"But he _was_ serious about Kreacher," Hermione said bitterly. "I hate Malfoy. I just... I _hate_ him. It's people like Malfoy who make me want to entirely reconsider my career path."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, rubbing his arm. Harry had given it a good twist while trying to hold him back from Malfoy.

"Well, I'd really like to continue with S.P.E.W."

"Not again!" Ron cried.

Hermione held her hand up to silence him. "Do you think that what happened to Kreacher was really fair? Really? He was killed for no reason by some snot-nosed brat – probably after being tortured for information."

"I doubt it," Harry said. "I don't think that the Malfoys would have had to torture Kreacher to spill his guts."

"_Still_," Hermione replied, "it's wrong. I feel that wizards owe it to the house elves to look after them. They've looked after us for centuries. It's time to return the favor."

"So who do you think the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be?" Ron asked. He, Hermione, and Harry were making their way to the Great Hall for the welcoming feast.

"I think I know who it is," Hermione said, grinning. She swerved to the side of the hallway, narrowly missing a water balloon that Peeves threw at some wandering second years.

"Who?"

She turned to Harry, still grinning. "Well, I think it's going to be Lupin. You know how he told Harry, 'I'm sure you'll be seeing me soon,' before he left the other day? I wonder if Dumbledore's going to give him another shot at the job."

"That'd be excellent!" Ron cried. "He was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had."

"I don't think it's him," Harry replied, feeling guilty. He hadn't told Ron and Hermione about the real function of Remus's gift. Harry was almost positive that was the only reason Remus said he'd be seeing him soon. "Lupin said he's going to be really busy with the Order and everything."

Hermione seemed unconvinced, until the three of them pushed open the wide double doors to the Great Hall, and they caught a glimpse of the staff sitting at the High Table. There was one empty seat at the end of the table, which Harry assumed was for Hagrid. Harry recognized all the other teachers, except for a woman who was seated next to McGonagall.

"Who is that?" Ron muttered under his breath. They took a seat near the head of the Gryffindor table. "She looks like McGonagall's twin or something."

Indeed, the woman sitting next to McGonagall looked exactly like a younger version of her. Her hair was tied back into a tight bun, but it was all black, unlike McGonagall's salt-and-pepper hair that had been turning gray over the years. She wore the same square spectacles as Professor McGonagall and had the same beady eyes. The two of them were talking energetically and both were smiling.

"Think she has a younger sister?" Harry asked. "Or a daughter?"

Hermione shrugged. Ron swore under his breath. "Just what Hogwarts needed – _two_ McGonagalls."

Harry didn't bother hiding his grin as Professor McGonagall suddenly stood up and retrieved the Sorting Hat. A hush fell over the Great Hall as the first years were brought inside, huddling together from the frigid trip across the lake. He recognized Seamus's cousin with her curly hair, separated from the rest of the first years. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and she looked all together unimpressed. Harry watched Hagrid slip inside and take his place at the end of the staff table.

Professor McGonagall set the dusty sorting hat on a three-legged stool in front of the four tables. She took a step back as the brim of the hat opened up and began its song:

_A year ago I told you all,  
__The tale of the all the Founders' fall.  
__Centuries later it's my duty to warn,  
__Throughout the year the school with be torn._

_Strength in friendship and family and love,  
__Will prove to be the only weapon against pure blood.  
__Choose your side carefully, no matter your house,  
__For in the end my sort will not matter an ounce._

_Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, and Slytherins,  
__Will all have a chance to prove exactly where they fit in.  
__Loyal souls, clever minds, brave hearts, and a thirst for power  
__Will all come together in the final hour._

_So it is with a heavy burden I say goodbye,  
__A hat hiding a tear,  
__Because I hope, dear students of Hogwarts,  
__That I will see you again next year._

There was an awkward silence after the hat finished its song. Dumbledore was the first to clap, and then the staff joined in. "Bit of a downer," Ron said quietly, reluctantly giving his applause. Harry had to agree.

"Let the Sorting begin!" Dumbledore announced. Professor McGonagall stepped up to the stool and read the first name from a piece of parchment. "Benjamin Aho."

Harry watched as a small boy with pale blonde hair took a seat on the stool. Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head. After a few moments, the Hat shouted out, "Hufflepuff!" Cheers erupted from the Hufflepuff table as he joined them in an empty chair.

"Is it just me, or are the first years getting smaller and smaller?" Ron questioned.

Hermione scoffed. "Your head's just getting bigger and bigger, that's all Ron."

"Very funny. You know, I think I was a lot taller when I was a first year..." he began, but Hermione shushed him. It was Nora Finnigan's turn to be sorted. She stepped up from her lonely spot in the crowd of first years and plopped down on the Sorting Hat stool. She didn't look as indifferent as she did on the train. In fact, Harry could see a hint of fear glistening in her eyes.

Harry found himself holding his breath. After a few seconds of anticipation, the Sorting Hat announced, "Gryffindor!" Nora looked like she was trying to hold back a smile as the Gryffindor table broke into applause and cheer. Seamus stood up from his seat and pounded his fist on the table. She sheepishly sat next to her cousin on the empty bench.

"Runs in the family," Seamus said proudly.

Professor McGonagall continued to call first years up to the Sorting Hat's stool until there was only one very intimidated girl by the name of Helen Warren left. All of the students in the Great Hall cheered as she joined the Ravenclaw table.

When Dumbledore stood from his seat at the center of the high table, Harry couldn't help noticing that he too looked as though he had grown older during the summer holidays. But when he smiled at the four house tables, his blue eyes twinkling wildly, he looked much younger. An immediate silence fell over all of the students as Dumbledore cleared his throat and began his speech.

"Newcomers, old friends, and new friends, I welcome you, once again, to Hogwarts. I promise I only have a few announcements to make and one introduction. As always, the Dark Forest is off limits to all students, at all times – no matter what sort of creatures may prowl between trees." Harry was quite sure that he was distinctly addressing his section of the Gryffindor table at this point. He sank into the back of his chair, hoping to blend in with the rest of his house. In fact, Harry had no desire to go into the Dark Forest to visit Grawp.

"The caretaker, Mr. Filch, has also informed me that the Forbidden Object List now consists of 469 items, and can be viewed in his office at the request of any student. He also wishes me to remind you all that the mischievous events that took place last year will not be tolerated. Please don't get any ideas, as we are still trying to clean up the mess the Weasley twins left behind."

There were nervous chuckles all around the Great Hall. Ron was blushing a little, but he straightened his shoulders and met the eyes of anyone who stole a glance at him and his shed of Weasley-red hair. He was proud of Fred and George, and so was Harry. They would be Hogwarts legends.

"Also, I must impress upon you all the severity of using Dark Magic on these grounds," Dumbledore said. His face was graver, and he looked old again to Harry. "Anyone caught using Dark Magic will be expelled immediately and handed over to the proper authorities, where stern punishment will result." He seemed to be looking directly at the Slytherin table as he spoke. "There will be absolutely no tolerance."

Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchanged worried glances.

"And finally, I would like to introduce you all to the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, Professor Leurre." The professor next to McGonagall gave a short nod and a thin-lipped smile. "And without further ado," Dumbledore said, "let the feast begin!" And with a clap of his hands, food appeared before Harry on the table.

"Leurre?" Hermione said out loud. "Where have I heard that before?"

Ron shrugged. "What do you think that warning about using Dark Magic was about?" he asked, digging into the meal in front of him.

"I suppose he's just making things clear for the Slytherins," Harry suggested. "They've been warned.

"You know, that's something that's bothered me over the summer," Hermione whispered, biting her lower lip. "I mean, if you think about it, our side has Dumbledore's Army. We have D.A. What if the other side has some junior D.E. club?"

"D.E.?" Ron questioned.

Harry frowned. "Death Eaters."

Harry sat contently across from Hermione in the Gryffindor common room. Ron had departed for his conference with Snape, leaving the two of them alone for a dull and uneventful game of Wizard's Chess. He was beating the pants off of Hermione without even trying. Harry could tell she was distracted. She would look at the board, a befuddled expression on her face, and chew her lower lip. Her eyes were clouded and far away.

"Do you think Snape will let him in?" she questioned.

Harry shrugged. He was afraid to hope for anything.

"I mean, it's not like he doesn't _try_. Okay, well, maybe there are some days where he plays Quidditch instead of doing his Potions homework, but everybody needs to have a little fun now and then... er, everyday..." She sighed. "He's so screwed."

"Screwed?" Harry had never heard Hermione use that kind of language before.

"Something I picked up in New York," she replied, grinning. "You wouldn't believe how beautiful the city is, Harry. All of the people – you'd never be able to tell who was a muggle and who wasn't. It was amazing. Though it's not London," she added thoughtfully.

"Check," Harry said, moving his bishop diagonal from Hermione's king.

She moved it forward one space. "I saw this protest outside of a steakhouse. It was amazing. People were carrying signs with photos of dead carcasses and meat processing plants on them. There was even a cow outside with a sign strapped around its neck that said, 'Don't eat me!' in big, blood-red writing."

Harry laughed. He moved one of his few pawns forward a space, hoping to catch Hermione in a trap.

"They had all of the pamphlets filled with information, too. And they were giving them away for free. I was thinking that maybe I could organize a rally for S.P.E.W. or something here at Hogwarts. I talked with one of the leaders and he said – hey!"

Harry followed Hermione's gaze. There was a tiny, gray, tiger-striped kitten following Crookshanks around. The kitten was walking up behind the orange cat, its tail twitching, as one of its paws would reach out and playfully swat at Crookshanks's side. Then Crookshanks would run away, but a few seconds later, the gray kitten would be back at his side again.

"Looks like Crookshanks has found a friend," Harry said.

Hermione scowled. "Why – that kitten – it's _picking_ on Crookshanks!" she cried.

"No, it's just playing with him," Harry replied. "I think it'd do him a big of good anyway. He's looking a little large."

She glared at him. "Are you saying that Crookshanks is fat?"

Harry shook his head, fearing her retaliation if he admitted his true feelings about the cat. "I'm just saying he could use some activity."

Hermione scoffed. "Whose cat is it, anyway? Some first year's?" She watched the cat suspiciously. "This place isn't big enough for the both of them. He was here first. He doesn't have to put with this." She was on her feet in a flash. She stalked over to the kitten and picked it up by the scruff of its neck, its paws flailing. She walked over to a group of first years who were chatting excitedly.

"Whose is it?" Hermione demanded, her prefect's badge shining in the glow from the candlelight, intimidating the children. The kitten hung from her grip, defenseless.

The first years exchanged glances. "She's mine!" cried a voice from the floor. She was sitting on a carpet in front of the fireplace, reading a book. Harry recognized her as Nora, Seamus's little cousin. She quickly sprang to her feet. "Was she bothering you?"

Hermione quickly put the kitten back down on the floor. Harry was surprised to see her back down from her position of disdain with the new kitten. "Er... No. No. I was just wondering. You see, I have a cat too."

"The ginger one?" Nora asked. Hermione nodded. "He's very handsome. What's his name?"

"Crookshanks," she replied. Her cheeks were a tad red, and Harry could tell she felt guilty about making a fuss over a kitten.

"This is Alley," Nora said. She picked up the gray kitten and cuddled her in her arms. Alley reached out and grabbed one of Nora's curls with her paws, and Nora giggled. "I found her before I came here. In an alley," she added.

"Oh, well... That's interesting," Hermione said, though Harry got the impression it wasn't very interesting at all. She excused herself from the conversation and headed back towards the table where Harry was sitting. She plopped down in the chair and Crookshanks climbed into her lap, purring with gratitude. "I think sometimes the power of a prefect gets to my head," she explained. "I suppose it is a harmless little kitten. Rather cute, actually."

Harry raised an eyebrow, confused. "I guess. Checkmate." He was about to capture Hermione's king when Ron burst through the common room door, out of breath, his face flushed.

"You're not going to believe what Snape wants me to do!"


	7. Snape's Proposition

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**Snape's Proposition**

"Snape is crazy!" Ron shouted. The group of first years who Hermione had approached earlier glanced wearily at Ron and left for their dormitories. "If he expects me to follow through with his evil plan, he's got another thing coming!"

"What did he say, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Is he going to let you take the N.E.W.T. class?" Harry questioned.

"Well, yes and no." Ron flopped into a chair at their table. "Snape said that he'll let me _attend_ the N.E.W.T. potions class. Then I have to take the Potions O.W.L. exam again at the end of the year."

"That's good, isn't it?"

Ron shook his head. "Snape is going to make me go to every single N.E.W.T. Potions class and do _all_ of the homework. Then, if I get an Outstanding, he'll _consider_ passing me in the course."

"What does that mean?" Harry said.

"It _means_," Ron spat, "that I can do all the work for Potions, score an Outstanding on the O.W.L. exam, and he can still say that I never took the N.E.W.T. Potions class and I did all of the work for nothing."

"So basically, you'll be participating in class, but not be graded?" Hermione asked.

"Exactly. And he can just choose not to pass me. I asked him how do I know that he's not just going to make me do all of this work for nothing? And he folded those greasy hands of his into his lap and said, 'Well, Mr. Weasley, you'll just have to trust me.' Me? Trust Snape? I don't think so."

"But it's the only way," Hermione said. "Ron, if you really want to be an Auror, you've got to make some sacrifices."

"This is so stupid!" Ron exploded. "All because I got an E. An E isn't even _bad_! An E stands for excellent, damn it!"

"Settle down," Harry said. "Snape just wants to get you riled up, that's all."

"How do you know?" Ron demanded. "I don't know where this blind faith has suddenly come from, Harry, but you're mistaken. Snape doesn't care whether or not I become an Auror."

Harry held up his hands as a sign of a truce. "Hey, don't get mad at me."

"Harry's right," Hermione said. "You need to turn this anger into determination. You need to show Snape exactly what kind of Potions Master you are."

Ron's face hardened. He seemed to be considering everything in his mind. "You're right. I'll show him. Snape hasn't got anything over me. By the end of the year I'll have him convinced that I deserve to pass N.E.W.T. Potions!"

"That's the spirit!" Hermione cried.

Ron's face fell. "Except..."

"Except what?"

"Now that I'm not technically signed up for Potions, I had to get into a different class."

"Which class?" Hermione questioned.

"Herbology." Ron slammed his head onto the tabletop. "It was a stupid decision, I guess. The only other class that was open was Care of Magical Creatures. And after I heard Neville on the train, I thought, well, if Neville can do it, so can I. Now what did I get myself into? This year is going to be ten times harder."

"Ooh, but that's really good," Hermione said. "When you pass Potions, you'll have six N.E.W.T. classes. And if an extra one is Herbology, the Ministry will think a lot more of your application."

"Great." Ron yawned. "I'm sure it'll make mum and dad happy."

Hermione winked. "Percy would be proud."

Harry could tell that the two of them were going to go at it about Percy again, but before either one could open their mouths, he quickly interrupted them. "Look at it this way, Ron. Snape may have the power to not give you credit for the N.E.W.T. class, but at least he doesn't have the power to _fail_ you."

The next morning, Harry was concentrating heavily on his breakfast in the Great Hall when Ginny sat down next to him. She had been very much herself and unusually comfortable around him ever since she kissed him. It had been quite the opposite for Harry. He hadn't told anyone what had happened the night before his birthday. He was afraid that if Ron found out, he may actually be upset and try to beat the living daylights out of him. Or worse: he'd encourage it.

"Morning," Ginny said cheerfully, helping herself to some muffins.

"Morning," Harry replied, staring into the depths of his bowl of porridge. He could barely hear her over the excited chatter of everyone in the Great Hall. The Heads of Houses were passing out class schedules to everyone.

"Ready for your first day of fifth year?" Hermione asked, sitting down across from them.

Ginny nodded. "I think so."

"Fifth year is hell," Ron said, sitting next to Hermione. "Although, I'm afraid my sixth will be just as bad. Make sure you score high on your O.W.L.s, Gin. Start studying now."

"What do you want to be?" Hermione questioned curiously. "Do you want to be an Auror too?"

Ginny snorted. "I'd rather be a troll guard." She chuckled. Then she looked around at the sullen faces around her. "No offense to you three. I just don't think that an Auror is up my alley. I mean, I like to lend a hand when I can, and I like the," she lowered her voice, "the D.A. meetings." She straightened up in her chair. "I just don't think I want to do it for a living. The chance that I may turn out like Mad-Eye is a tad frightening."

Harry laughed. He couldn't blame her. He was almost relieved that Ginny wasn't looking into a career where she was risking her neck with every assignment she took.

"Speaking of D.A.," Hermione said, "are we going to round up the old crew?"

"Yeah!" Ginny cried. "Dean and Seamus already asked me about it. They're anxious to pick up where we left off last year."

"Even Seamus?" Harry asked. "He's only been to one meeting." Harry thought back to the year before, when the two of them had been at odds. Seamus's mother thought that Harry was dangerous, and she didn't want her son going to the same school as him, let alone sharing a dormitory.

"Well, I guess it made an impression on him," Ginny replied indifferently. "So what do you say Harry? Is D.A. reborn?"

Harry didn't know if he wanted the responsibility of teaching Defense of the Dark Arts to his closest friends and to those, namely Cho Chang, who were too close for comfort. He couldn't help worrying that he was going to get them all in way over their heads. He didn't know enough. He didn't trust himself to really prepare them for battle with Voldemort or any of the Death Eaters. After what happened at the end of the last year – when his desire to save Sirius overpowered his duty to keep his friends safe – he didn't trust himself with the role of D.A.'s leader. Sirius's blood was already on his hands.

He was just about to reject the idea of a reunion of Dumbledore's Army when McGonagall strolled past, handing out slips of parchment. "Class schedules," she said, giving one to each of them. Harry noticed that Ron's, Hermione's, and his all had their names on it, but Ginny's merely read "5th year." Their schedules were personalized.

"What have you got first?" Ron asked, eying Harry's schedule. "Muggle Studies?"

He nodded. "Who teaches it, anyway?"

"It's Professor Avis," Ron answered. "She and my dad get on real well. She's got more Muggle gadgets and plugs than he does."

Somehow, Harry found that difficult to imagine. "How come I haven't seen her before?"

Ron shrugged. "She spends all of her free time with Muggles. Takes pictures and everything. Uses their money, buys their clothes. She even goes out to bars and to the picture shows. A real Muggle-friendly woman. Anytime dad has a question, he asks her first. Or you," he added. "Whoever is closer."

"Honestly, the two of you are wasting your time," Hermione said haughtily. "You already know about Muggles – especially you, Harry. You're not going to learn anything."

"You'd be surprised," Ron said. "And why are you so against Muggle Studies all of a sudden? You took it during your third year. What's the problem now?"

"_Now_," Hermione snapped, "we have better things to worry about. I took the class merely out of curiosity to see how wizards taught about Muggles. I didn't specifically learn anything I didn't already know. You don't even get to use your wand. Now that I think of it, it was a tad boring."

"Well, good," Ron answered. "I need a boring class. If I've got the N.E.W.T. Herbology and Potions, I'm going to needs a slack class."

However, Harry was feeling bad about wasting his time with a class about Muggles. He had lived as one for the first eleven years of his life. Maybe he should have taken Herbology instead. If he wasn't going to learn anything new, then why was he wasting his time when he could be spending it studying something important – something to do with being an Auror? And why had Mr. Weasley encouraged him to take the class, then?

Ron saw the look on his face. "Don't let Hermione get to you. She likes making people feel guilty for their decisions." This statement earned him a kick in the shin under the table. "Ouch! I think she's getting more violent as we get older, don't you?"

"What have you got first, 'Mione?" Harry asked.

"Arithmacy," she answered. "Then after lunch, I've got Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Us too," Ron replied. "Looks like we've got basically the same schedule. Except I've got Herbology before dinner on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

Harry studied his schedule. He didn't have anything before lunch or dinner. Everyday he only had two classes for an hour and a half each. Now he felt really guilty for not taking harder classes. This year was going to be a piece of cake.

The Great Hall began to thin out as the time for the first bell to ring approached. Hermione said goodbye to Harry and Ron to go to Arithmacy. The two of them headed down the first floor corridor to the Muggle Studies classroom, which was next to a portrait of owls sitting on telephone lines. Harry realized that this was the only painting he'd seen at Hogwarts that had any indication of the existence of the Muggle world. The owls were sleeping on the telephone lines, and every few seconds one would give a small hoot.

The room itself reminded Harry of a normal classroom from his primary school. There were about twenty individual metal desks set up in five neat rows. There was a wooden teacher's desk on the side of the classroom. It had a swivel chair behind it, along with some books, a day calendar, and a framed photo of a woman surrounded by some schoolchildren. Harry could only assume that the slightly pudgy woman with short, wavy blonde hair was Professor Avis. A shiny red apple sat on the corner of the desk, glinting in the sunlight from the window. Harry guessed it must have been a bewitched window because the room wasn't anywhere near real windows at Hogwarts. At the front of the classroom there wasn't a chalkboard, but a white dry-erase board with multi-colored markers. In the back of the classroom, there was a bookcase filled with Muggle children's books and a box of toys. The only thing that looked out of place was the old brick fireplace on the right-hand side of the classroom.

"Wow," Ron breathed. "She really went all out."

The two of them took seats near the front as other students poured in. Harry saw that their class was made up of mostly boys, except for a few girls from Hufflepuff, Padma Patil from Ravenclaw, her sister Parvati Patil, and Lavender Brown from Gryffindor. They all sat together at the front of the classroom, chatting nervously and studying the room around them. Justin Fitch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan sat with some other boys from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. There were no Slytherins in the class, though that didn't surprise Harry. Their general hatred for Muggles was a well-known truth. Draco Malfoy wouldn't be caught dead in a class about Muggles.

In fact, all of the boys from Harry's house were in the classroom. Dean and Seamus sat behind him and Ron, and Neville rushed into the classroom just before the bell rang. "I couldn't find the portrait!" he explained as he sat in the empty desk next to Harry. "When I walked by, there were only electric lines, no owls."

Moments after the first bell rang, the door from the classroom opened and shut, and the woman who Harry had seen in the photograph waltzed inside. Harry was impressed. She was dressed very muggle-like in a navy blue pinstriped business suit. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, secured by plastic clips. She even wore a matching scarf. But instead of wearing shoes, she was wearing floppy, bunny-eared slippers.

"Good morning, class," she said in a singsong voice. "My name is Professor Avis." She turned to the dry-erase board and wrote _Professor Avis_ in loopy letters. "I don't think that I've had any of you as students before, but I'm very excited to introduce all of you to the Muggle world. I am honored to be teaching the N.E.W.T. Muggle Studies class, as I have been for the past sixteen years. However, this year is going to be very exciting, as the headmaster and I have come up with some new ways for all of you to learn about the fascinating lives of Muggles.

"The first thing I should tell you is that you won't be needing your wands for this class. I do not even want to see them out of your robes. We are going to learn about Muggles, like Muggles. I have a no magic policy inside of my classroom." She turned and wrote on the board, _Rule #1: No magic_. Harry saw some of the boys from Ravenclaw slip their wands back in their pockets, looking slightly disappointed. "Secondly, I do not have any tolerance for racism in my classroom. Anybody who says anything offensive about Muggles or their daily lives will be receiving detention immediately. One of the reasons this course exists is to teach tolerance of our human counterparts."

_Tolerance_. There was that word again. Harry was noticing a pattern. No tolerance for Dark Magic, no tolerance for Muggle racism. Was Dumbledore trying to prepare them for a war in which Muggles were involved?

Under the first rule, Professor Avis wrote _#2: No racism_. She continued to write _Rule #3: Ask questions!_ "I understand that as a student coming from a family of only wizards, many of you have absolutely no knowledge of how the Muggle world works. Please, any of you, don't hesitate to ask questions. There are no dumb questions about Muggles, so don't be embarrassed to raise your hand and ask. They are truly fascinating creatures. It is amazing how we live side by side with them on the same planet."

Professor Avis walked over to her desk and produced some sheets of paper. It was not parchment, but bleached white Muggle paper. She handed them out to the first person in each row and they passed them back. On the top it read _Syllabus_. And Harry was quite sure that the syllabus had been typed out on a computer and photocopied, which couldn't have been done on the grounds of Hogwarts. Professor Avis really went all out to maintain her no-magic policy.

"In addition to your textbook, _A Guide to Muggle Survival,_ I will also be handing out other books to you." There were audible groans from some of the students. However, she smiled when she heard them. "These books will usually be fiction novels, and I assure you, they will not be mundane reading. Muggles are captivating, and so is their literature. Now, if you'll all take a look at your syllabus," she held up the paper she had just passed out, "I'll discuss what we'll be studying and when we'll be studying it."

She cleared her throat. "Our first unit will be about Muggle life. We'll be studying the common Muggle inside its natural habitat. We'll discuss the differences between our daily actions and theirs. The second unit is going to be about science, or how Muggles survive without magic," she explained. "This will probably prove to be the most difficult topic to understand, but we won't be tackling it until around November. Our third unit is going to deal strictly with tolerance. How we tolerate Muggles and Muggles tolerate us. We will be discussing how Muggles come up with their explanations that magic doesn't exist and some of the philosophies behind those who did believe. The fourth and final unit will be the shortest, but it discusses the most important part of this class. If you'll all please take a look at your syllabus..."

Harry glanced at the paper in front of him. It read, _Unit #4: Why the Wizarding World Must Remain Secret_.

"This concept is also sometimes hard for young wizards to understand. There have been many students who disagree with keeping the magical world a secret, but there are many reasons why Muggles aren't ready to be exposed to the wizarding world. Professor Dumbledore and I have decided that we will be having a debate at the end of the year, in front of the entire school, as to whether or not Muggles should be aware of the existing magical world.

"This is just one of the events I have planned for this year," Professor Avis continued. "Every Wednesday afternoon, at the beginning of class, a special guest speaker will discuss their interaction with Muggles on a daily basis. But I'll wait until Wednesday to make any sort of introductions."

"Finally, the Headmaster has agreed to allow us to do something very exciting on Halloween." She paused, as though she were waiting for every head in the classroom to look up at her. "We will be taking a field trip to London, where we will interact with Muggles on one of the most magical nights of the year."

The classroom burst into chatter. He could tell that Ron was excited. Harry didn't know if he'd been to London for anything other than catching the Hogwarts Express or visiting the Ministry of Magic.

Professor Avis shushed them. "In fact," she said, "it may be the only night where a class like ours can blend into the Muggle World, unnoticed as outsiders. Not to mention that it is a relatively stress-free Muggle holiday, so most of them will be in very friendly moods. We may also participate in the longtime Muggle tradition called Trick-or-Treating."

There were gasps from the class. Harry laughed. He wondered if they were going to need costumes or not. He had the mental image of twenty sixteen-year-old wizards knocking on the door to someone's flat, crying out "Trick-or-Treat!"

Muggle Studies may be an easy class, Harry thought, but at least they were going to have some fun.


	8. McGonagall's Twin

**CHAPTER EIGHT **

**McGonagall's Twin**

After lunch, Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked the familiar path to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"I wonder how Dumbledore found someone to take the job this time," Ron said. "You'd think he'd have a harder time of it than last year, after what happened with Umbridge."

"I think what happened to Umbridge was the Ministry's fault," Hermione said. "I'm sure that there are some educated people out there who aren't afraid to take the job. I mean it's not like every teacher has ended up dead."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Although, this one reminds me too much of McGonagall."

"Two McGonagalls would be my worst nightmare come true," Ron announced.

"Oh come on, Professor McGonagall isn't _that_ bad. Especially after last year and the way she stood up to Umbridge." One of Hermione's greatest strengths was defending McGonagall, probably because they had so many of the same ideals. "Besides, if we do have someone like her teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, think of how much we're going to learn." It was startling how much of a resemblance there was between the two of them.

But as the three of them entered the classroom and took their seats, it was clear that in the visual category, Professor Leurre looked more like Professor McGonagall than Hermione did. She even appeared to have the same stern look on her face. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun again, and she was wearing robes of a rich chestnut color. She sat at her desk with her hands folded, studying each student with harsh eyes.

Most of the sixth years were in Defense Against the Dark Arts, including Malfoy and his groupies. He was sharing a desk with Pansy Parkinson; Crabbe and Goyle were sitting in front of them. The classroom was a little cramped, and by the time the bell rang, all of the seats were taken.

Harry had seen the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom under the care of five teachers before Professor Leurre. She appeared to be somewhat of a bookworm. Old dusty books that smelled of mold were scattered around the classroom. There were piles on the floor and on her desk. There were also a few magical contraptions that Harry didn't recognize. One was a big, white globe on a pedestal that reminded Harry of a giant Moon Guide, like the miniature globe he carried in his pocket.

At the sound of the bell, Professor Leurre stood up and clasped her hands behind her back and paced the classroom in very McGonagall-like fashion. "Welcome to the N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Most of you already know who I am, but just in case you've forgotten, I'll remind you. My name is Professor Leurre. You may only call me Professor Leurre. I demand respect in this class just as you demand a proper education."

She turned on her heel and faced the class, studying the rows of students. Ron looked positively fearful. "The headmaster has informed me that last year you merely copied spells from the pages of your textbooks. I assure you, this year will be much different, as I prefer the hands-on approach to the Defense of the Dark Arts."

Hermione turned her head and smiled back at Harry and Ron. She hated Umbridge's open-book method. Harry was relieved to hear that they would be practicing the Dark Arts again. Then maybe no one would want to join D.A. again because they would get enough homework from Professor Leurre.

"I am very disappointed, however, that you are already in your sixth year and you haven't studied a spell's worth of ancient magic."

Some of the students gasped. Harry apparently didn't understand the magnitude of what she'd just said. His only knowledge of ancient magic consisted of Voldemort's ignorance. Ancient magic was the reason that he was the Boy Who Lived.

"Some of you may be more familiar with ancient magic than others. As many people are well aware of, ancient magic was the key to Voldemort's end sixteen years ago, and ancient magic was the very thing that brought him back." She was staring directly at Harry as she said this, and his stare did not waiver from hers.

At the mention of Voldemort's name, there were cries of astonishment from the class. Harry saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle all wince, the way Snape did when Harry spoke the Dark Lord's name. Ron made a little whining noise.

"In my class, there will be no mention of the Dark Lord or You-Know-Who. If you are going to speak of him, you must call him Voldemort and nothing else."

Harry was a little surprised. He had heard very few people besides Hermione and Dumbledore speak his true name. The rest of the class was in shock, however. Malfoy looked outraged. "But Professor," he said, not bothering to raise his hand, "you can't possibly expect us to..."

"Oh I can, Mr. Malfoy, and I do," Professor Leurre interrupted. "If you cannot bring yourself to say Voldemort, then perhaps you shouldn't say anything about him at all," she snapped.

Now Harry was surprised that Professor Leurre even knew who Malfoy was. He studied the professor, and decided that she did look about the same age as Narcissa, Malfoy's mother. Perhaps they had gone to Hogwarts together.

"Fearing a name is a waste of time," she continued, sitting down at her desk. "What you should all really fear is the wizard himself. But we're not going to debate about this right now." She began searching her desk, and there was a loud boom as she accidentally knocked some of her books on the floor. A mushroom-shaped cloud of dust floated through the air, and she coughed. She grinned sheepishly, pulling her wand out of a drawer. "First we are going to discuss the origin of ancient magic. For homework for the next class, I want you all to do a good twelve inches on what you already know about ancient magic, and also feel free to write any questions you have about it in your essay."

Harry knew next to nothing about ancient magic, but he was pretty sure he could fill up three feet's worth of parchment with his questions about ancient magic. Immediately, a question that had been burning inside of him for years and years popped into his mind:

Was ancient magic powerful enough to bring somebody back to life?

"I thought Professor Leurre was absolutely wonderful!" Hermione said enthusiastically. It was dinnertime, and the Great Hall was loud and noisy from the excitement of the first day of classes. "Finally, we're going to talk about ancient magic. I have so many questions about it."

"I think she was a tad strict," Ron replied. "Have you had her yet, Ginny?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't have Defense Against the Dark Arts until Wednesday. And I doubt we'll be studying ancient magic. It's not on the O.W.L. examination."

Hermione sighed. "Well, we'll just have to tell you all about it during the D.A. meetings, right Harry?"

Harry frowned. He certainly didn't want to talk about D.A. meetings over dinner. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all looked at him expectantly, as though they wanted him to make some kind of announcement about when the first meeting would be. He loathed his role as their fearless leader. He tried not to look at them, but instead, studied the meal in front of him.

"'Arry!" exclaimed a voice from behind him. He turned to see Hagrid, the big half-giant gamekeeper and current Care of Magical Creatures instructor. "Good ter see ya!" He gave Harry a slap on the back that was more painful than friendly. "Hermione, Ron, Ginny." He nodded to each one of them.

"Hello, Hagrid," they replied automatically.

"Say, did ya get yer birthday gift?" he asked.

Harry gulped. He'd forgotten all about the other half that Hagrid had promised him at Hogwarts. "I did, thanks," he replied.

"Oh just you wait, 'Arry. You'll be thankin' me when you see her."

_Her_. There it was again. The curiosity and worry was overcoming him. "Hagrid, it's not an animal, is it?"

He just smiled. "You'll have ter wait and see, 'Arry. Just wait and see. You can stop by t'morrow night, if you like."

Harry wasn't sure he could wait until then. "What about tonight?"

Hagrid thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "No, it'll be better if ya wait 'til tomorrow."

He briefly wondered what Hagrid would be doing tonight, but Harry didn't question him. It was only the first day of class, after all. He probably still had lesson plans to create and a giant half-brother to visit. "All right Hagrid, I'll be at your hut tomorrow night then."

Hagrid grinned and ruffled Harry's hair. "I look forward to it. And you'd all better take care of yourselves this year, ya hear?"

"We always do, don't we?" Ron said, confused.

"You know what I mean," Hagrid replied. He lowered his voice. "No funny business. With You-Know-Who..."

"Voldemort," Hermione interrupted. Hagrid, Ron, and Ginny winced. A couple third years looked fearfully at Hermione, but her glare turned them away.

"With him runnin' around, you need to watch yer backs," Hagrid whispered. "And anything with that scar, 'Arry, you go and tell Dumbledore. He'll take care of ya."

Harry, feeling self-conscious, quickly folded his bangs over his scar, trying to hide it. "Er... thanks Hagrid. I'll keep that in mind."

And with that, the giant winked and headed towards the staff table, the silverware clattering on the table with each step he took.

"That was odd," Ron said, chewing on a mouthful of bread.

"He's just worried," Hermione supplied. "And with good reason."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, we don't need to worry about this. As long as I'm at Hogwarts, I'm safe. As long as Dumbledore's around, we don't have to worry about anything."

"You know, they always say that," Ron said, "but somehow, Voldemort always manages to infiltrate Hogwarts's defenses. It's a good thing you've got us, Harry." He grinned. "I've got your back, mate."

"Me too," Hermione said quietly. "So Ron, what did Professor McGonagall want to talk to you about after Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

Ron stopped chewing and swallowed the food in his mouth in one gulp. His ears turned slightly red. "Ah... I don't think now's the best time to talk about it, Hermione."

"You had to meet with McGonagall already?" Harry said. "Did you get an early detention or something?" he joked.

"Er... no. Not a detention."

"Oh, that's right!" Ginny cried. "I heard it from Colin Creevey in the Common Room. Congratulations, Ron! Fred and George would be proud."

"Proud about what?" Harry had the distinct impression that everybody knew something he didn't. He turned to Ron, who wouldn't meet his eyes. "What's going on?"

"You know, you're right Ron, we should talk about it later," Hermione said suddenly.

"Why?" Ginny demanded suddenly. "Harry's going to find out soon enough."

"Find out what?"

Ron sighed. For a few endless moments, he played with the scalloped potatoes on his plate. "Look, Harry, I'm sorry. I tried to tell you on the train before Seamus came in. When McGonagall wrote me about meeting with Snape, she also congratulated me on making captain." He spoke quickly, his words all in one breath. "Please, don't hate me. I didn't ask for it. It's just, after last year – after you were banished from Quidditch..."

Harry felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. He was shocked. He was angry. Jealous. He heard a voice inside of his head commanding him not to feel. Act normal. Show no emotion. "Oh, that's... that's really great Ron. You deserve it."

Ron scowled at Ginny. "Look, Harry, I'm sorry. It's just that, last year you were banished from Quidditch so technically you're not even on the team anymore. And there aren't any seventh years on the team..."

"No, it's great, Ron." Harry heard himself speaking, but he wasn't quite sure where his voice was coming from. "I understand." There were loud voices all around him from the other tables. He tried not to concentrate on the disappointment he felt. The anger. Stupid Umbridge – stupid Malfoy. It was his fault Harry had been banished from Quidditch in the first place.

And then it began to sink in. He realized what Ron was saying to him. "What do you mean that I'm not technically on the team anymore?"

Ron exchanged glances with Ginny again. "Well, as of right now, Ginny holds the seeker position on the team."

Harry felt the rush of blood through his ears as his anger boiled inside of him. He couldn't even look at Ginny. The thought of her taking over as seeker hadn't even crossed his mind. Did he really think he could just waltz back onto the team—onto Ron's team—when he was absent for nearly all of the last season? If he couldn't be seeker for the Gryffindor team, he didn't know if he wanted to play Quidditch at all.

"But you could tryout for seeker, and if you're better than her at tryouts, you can have your old position back." His voice was quiet. He was torn between his sister and his best friend.

Ginny's face had turned as red as the hair on her head. "Actually, Ron, I was kind of hoping to take Angelina's position," she said. "Harry can be Seeker."

"I don't want your..." Pity was what came into his mind. Ginny pitied him. She felt sorry for him. "I don't need your charity."

"It's not charity," she quickly replied. "I'd rather be working with the Quaffle and scoring some points. You know, where the real action is." She grinned wickedly at Harry.

"Well, that works out great then," Hermione said. "Harry can have his position as Seeker and Ginny can tryout for Chaser."

"Great," Ron said lightly. "That makes my life a lot easier."

"I bet it does," Harry said quietly. "So do I still have to try out?"

Ron shook his head. "Only if somebody else wants to try for that position. But I wouldn't worry about it. Although, it would be nice to have you around at tryouts on Thursday."

"Why?" Harry questioned.

"Because I've only been on the team for one year. I'm going to need all the help I can get." Ron smiled carefully.

Harry realized that he was getting upset over something he had absolutely no control over. So what if Ron was the new Quidditch captain? Ron hardly ever got anything he wanted. He had to become a prefect before his parents would even get him a decent broom. Harry scolded himself. He should be proud of Ron. He'd come a long way in a year. And besides, there was always next year for him to be captain. If he could manage not to get suspended from Quidditch again and survive whatever Voldemort had planned for him.

Harry managed to return his smile. "Right. I'll be glad to help out–if you need it."

Hermione let out her breath as if she'd been holding it for a long time. Ginny stood up and grabbed a piece of bread from the table. "Oh, there's Neville. I've got to go ask him a question about my Herbology homework." She sauntered off to the other end of the Gryffindor table.

"So Harry, about D.A., I really think we should get started as soon as possible," Hermione began.

"Hermione, would you just lay off?" Harry said shortly. "It's the first day of school. I'd like to enjoy it a little before we have to get down to business." He was still feeling a bit raw from the shock of losing Quidditch captain to his best friend.

"'Arry's right," Ron said, his mouth full of pork roast. "Give it o' rest for one day."

Hermione frowned, looking disgusted at Ron's lack of table manners. "I don't know how you can eat that."

"Eat what?" he asked.

"Do you know what they did to that pig before they slaughtered it? How they treated it?"

Ron swallowed in one gulp, looking confused. "I suspect they gave it a nice home inside a barn somewhere and fed it all the slop it wanted."

"You are so ignorant." Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed back her plate, the roast left untouched. "I'm going to the library to get started on that essay for Professor Leurre."

"Ah, yes, the first day of school wouldn't be complete without an evening journey to the library," Ron said quietly as he and Harry watched her leave the Great Hall. "There's no pleasing her," he muttered, and went back to his plate of pork.

Harry awoke with a start, his breath catching inside his chest. His scar was tingling, but it didn't hurt. It just felt overly sensitive in the cool night air. His body was drenched in sweat, his boxer shorts hugging his thighs.

Had it been a dream? Sometimes it was difficult for him to distinguish a vision from a dream. But it must have been a dream. Sirius was there. No, he wasn't physically there, but his voice was. Harry could hear him. The vividness that had awakened him disappeared into the cloudiness of his mind. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. If only he could remember. What was Sirius saying?

And as he tried to fall back asleep, visions of Ron being carried across the Quidditch Pitch with the Cup in his hands paraded through Harry's mind. But instead of feeling relief and excitement, all he could feel was bitter resentment.

He felt empty, realizing that there was really nothing for him to look forward to. He would always be a bit envious of Ron, wearing the sparkling "C" captain patch on his house robes. Harry felt his own failure with Ron's promotion. There was no excitement for Quidditch. He had no interest in his heart–he wouldn't feel butterflies in his stomach when he was near Cho Chang. And every time he looked at Ginny all he could feel was her mouth pressed against his and how utterly wrong it felt.

Feeling more alone than ever, Harry reached out from his four-poster to his nightstand. Very quietly, he opened the drawer and grabbed Remus's Moon Guide. After slipping on a robe, he crept quietly to the deserted Gryffindor common room, leaving the snores of his roommates behind him.

Harry plopped down onto one of the red plush couches. The room was almost completely dark except for the smoldering orange ashes in the fireplace. After surveying the room one more time, making sure that he was absolutely alone, he pulled out the Moon Guide.

"I solemnly swear I only want to watch," he said quietly. The small white orb began to quiver slightly in his hands. Harry brought it to his eye like a monocle as it glowed brightly in the darkness. All he could see was white, and for a few moments he thought that maybe he hadn't done it properly. Then suddenly, he saw a reflection of his own green eye, and an illustration of Remus came into focus.

Harry had thought he would find him in a bed somewhere, sleeping in the early hours of the morning. On the contrary, he was sitting in an old dusty rocking chair, reading a book. He looked content. He was wearing a dressing robe, his socks rolled down to his ankles. He had on small reading glasses and his hair was swept back from his face in a ponytail.

Harry wondered where he was. He didn't recognize the furniture or the room around him. He wished he could have been inside the vision of Remus, like he was inside the memory in the Pensieve. Harry wished that he could talk to Remus. Not even about what was happening at Hogwarts, but just about anything normal. About the weather. About the way Bulgaria had swept the World Cup away from Estonia earlier that month. About how much he missed Sirius.

"I have seen all there is to be seen," Harry whispered. The small orb lost some of its glow as Harry pulled it away from his eye.

He thought briefly of writing a letter to Remus. But what would he say? He knew if he picked up a quill and parchment all of his thoughts and emotions about Quidditch and Ron and Ginny would spill out of him. He didn't want to burden Remus with his silly schoolboy problems.

Instead, he slipped the Moon Guide into the pocket of his robe and stared at the fireplace until the ashes turned gray.


	9. Hagrid's Surprise

**CHAPTER NINE **

**Hagrid's Surprise**

"I swear, McGonagall is getting more strict with age," Ron said. "These new essay regulations are going to kill me."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the stairs down to the dungeon for their first Potions lesson of the new year. Ron was still in a sour mood from Transfiguration earlier that morning when Professor McGonagall had informed them that she would no longer be accepting essay parchments that had margins larger than an inch.

"Fred and George would turn in homework with two-inch margins _and_ two-inch lettering," Ron continued.

"And look where they are now," Harry said glumly.

"Yeah, they're facing an inquiry from the Ministry," Hermione said. "Or have you forgotten?"

"Doesn't matter," Ron replied. "They're still wealthier than I am." He kicked a loose stone on the dungeon floor and it sailed into one of the walls, ricocheting down the hallway. "Snape better not tell _anybody_ about our deal. I can just picture Malfoy getting off on that one. 'Weasley can't even get an Outstanding on his O.W.L., and he's a prefect.' What I wouldn't give to slug him one with my bare hands..."

"And you said that _I_ was getting more violent," Hermione laughed.

Harry couldn't help but feel a little resentment towards McGonagall about Ron being the new Quidditch captain. But he had shoved most of his emotions in to the pit of his stomach, stifling them from ever showing again. He wanted to be numb.

They made it to Potions just in time. In contrast to Muggle Studies the day before, the Potions class had nearly every Slytherin in it. Harry wondered if Ron would have scored an Outstanding on the O.W.L. had Snape been his head of house.

As they entered the dungeon, it seemed even more dank and dreary than Harry remembered. Harry and Ron sat next to each other and Hermione settled in an empty desk in front of them. A few moments later, Hannah Abbott sat down next to her

Malfoy leered at Harry from across the room. "Hey Potter, looks like all of those remedial Potions lessons paid off last year. You've somehow managed to land in this class." There were snickers from the Slytherin corner of the dungeon.

Harry felt his cheeks go red. He wasn't going to let Malfoy get to him. He wanted to be indifferent. He didn't even bother to grace Malfoy with a reply or a glance. Malfoy's taunting seemed beneath him. It wasn't worth taking offense to. Harry couldn't be bothered with petty taunting after what he had been through at the end of last year. The only tragedy in Malfoy's life was the incarceration of his father in Azkaban, which he still seemed to be in denial about.

The banter before class was only a mere indication of the unpleasantness of the first Potions lesson of the year. Professor Snape looked even paler than usual and spent most of the class barking at them about how incompetent they were. Most comments, however, were directed at Harry's side of the room. By the time Harry had finished his antidote to a sleeping draught, he was immune to Snape's snide remarks. He took a sample from his cauldron and placed it on Snape's desk. Harry could feel his dark eyes staring at him from behind his greasy hair.

Harry didn't meet his eyes. Although he knew more about Snape than he ever wanted to, he had mixed feelings about the professor. On one hand, Snape had such a grudge against Harry that he stopped at nothing to get him in the most trouble possible. He was unfair, rude, and ignorant. On the other hand, Harry felt guilty about how his father had tormented Snape during his own education at Hogwarts so many years ago.

But Harry was tired of feeling guilty. He was tired of feeling anything, period. He couldn't help it if he looked so much like his father. _And I can't change the past_, he thought bitterly as he made his way back to his desk. Suddenly, he heard the sound of glass breaking on the floor.

"Clumsy, Potter," Snape snarled.

Harry whirled around to find his sample of his antidote in a puddle on the dungeon's floor. His eyes narrowed in suspicion at Snape, who leered back at him, his smile unwavering.

"Pity," Snape replied. "Looks like you'll need another sample. And you'd better stay after to clean up the mess you've made."

Harry was speechless. Snape had just purposely smashed his potion _again_. The same thing had happened the previous year. Harry hoped that Hermione didn't wash out his cauldron like she had before.

But when Harry returned to his seat, he saw that Hermione was busy trying to talk to Hannah Abbott about the woes of cattle raising. He found another empty vile and hastily filled it with his potion. He returned it to Snape's desk. The bell signaling the end of class sounded.

"Potter, a word," Snape spat. It was not a request.

Harry stayed put at Snape's desk. He should have suspected as much. Snape was probably anxious to hand out some sort of punishment for knocking over his first sample. The dungeon cleared out quickly, but Ron and Hermione lingered near the doorway of the classroom.

"I can't stay," Ron said quietly. "I've got Herbology in five minutes."

"Go on," Harry announced. "I'll see you both later."

After a few moments of hesitation, the two of them left. Harry was left alone with Snape in an uncomfortable silence. He studied the chalkboard behind Snape's head, determined not to meet his gaze. What the hell did he want?

"How brave of your comrades to offer to escort you," Snape said. There was a bounce in his step as he approached Harry. His voice was angry. "Your only strength is with your friends, Potter. I hope you don't end up killing all of them."

Harry's insides burned. He wanted to lash out at Snape. He wanted to draw his wand and hex him into oblivion. But that would only amuse him. Harry tried to be indifferent; to show nothing. There wasn't anything that Snape could say that would show the weakness of his emotions.

"Strong and silent," Snape muttered. He continued to walk past Harry, and then circled around his back. The hair on Harry's neck stood on end. He wondered if Snape would attack someone when their back was turned. Did he fight cowardly?

Snape's shuffling stopped. "The headmaster has demanded that we continue our Occlumency lessons until you are ready for the next step."

"The next step...?" Harry began.

Snape ignored him. "Starting Thursday, we will begin having our Remedial Potions lessons at seven o'clock sharp on every Tuesday and Thursday thereafter." Harry suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Snape turned him around in one hard shove. "And this time you will not be sticking your head in places it is not permitted to go!" he snapped. Harry could almost feel the dungeon walls shaking with Snape's rage.

Harry didn't know if he was more surprised that Snape had shoved him or that he was actually agreeing to help Harry with Occlumency. Part of him was grateful. He wanted to be able to control his vulnerability to Voldemort. His scar was a two-way mirror. Voldemort could see what he saw, and he could see what Voldemort saw. If he learned to control the mirror, then maybe he could help the Order.

"Yes sir," Harry answered. He didn't dare meet Snape's fierce eyes.

"Now, get out of my sight." Snape circled around him before heading towards his office door.

"Professor..." Harry began. He heard Snape's heavy footsteps come to a sudden halt. Harry didn't know what he wanted to say. He wanted to show his gratitude. Hell, he almost wanted to apologize for his father's actions all those years ago.

"What is it?" Snape demanded.

Without facing him, Harry mumbled, "Thank you."

He heard Snape's footsteps again, and then his office door slam shut. Harry quickly picked up his books and supplies and took off for the dormitory. He didn't want to be around when Snape came back out of his office.

ï‚¨ ï‚¨ ï‚¨

Hogwarts found itself in the midst of an Indian summer. The grounds were still flourishing with summer vegetation. Harry hadn't bothered to run up to Gryffindor Tower to grab his cloak after dinner. Instead, he headed straight for Hagrid's Hut.

As he approached the wooden cabin, he could hear Fang explode with greetings on the other side of the door.

"'At's enough, Fang!" Hagrid shouted as he opened the door. But there was no stopping the **bloodhound or boarhound (?)**. He tackled Harry and attempted to give his face a bath. Hagrid pulled the dog off of him and sent him outside. "Sorry, e's a little excited. Hasn't seen yeh in a while an' all." Hagrid grinned.

"Hagrid, you look... interesting," Harry exclaimed. His clothes had absolutely no holes in them, and he had a very nice tweed jacket that was a little short on his arms. His hair was actually trimmed, pulled back in a ribbon. His beard was still as unruly as ever. But as Harry looked him over, he did begin resemble more of a professor at Hogwarts than the gamekeeper.

He blushed. "Well, Maxine may 'ave had a bit to do with that. She says that any husband of er's got to be nicely dressed 'n jackets and look presentable."

"Husband?" Harry questioned. "You mean you two..."

"Oh no, I was just tryin' it on," Hagrid replied. "It's just 'at... Well, I wouldn't mind bein' a husband someday. I've thought about proposin'..." He grinned. "And the jacket makes me feel a little better 'bout teachin'."

Harry laughed. "That's great, Hagrid."

"So are you ready for the rest o' your gift?" Hagrid asked.

Harry gulped. "Ah, Hagrid, about that..." But Hagrid didn't seem to hear him. He ushered Harry outside of his hut. Harry followed closely behind him. "Is... is it something I can keep at the castle? Near my bedroom?"

"Oh no, 'fraid not, Harry. In fact, this will have ta be our little secret until the end o' the year." He winked.

Harry gulped. This was not good.

"You can tell Hermione and Ron, o' course." He grinned. "But other than that, nobody ought ter know." He paused. "Okay, close yer eyes now, 'Arry. You're gonna love her."

_Her_. Harry silently prayed as he tightly closed his eyes. He could hear some commotion and the clanging of metal. He envisioned a giant wire cage containing some deadly, gruesome animal, yet "cute" by Hagrid's standards. Maybe Harry could make a run for it.

"Okay, 'Arry, open 'em."

Bracing himself for the worst, Harry opened one eye. There was no cage. There was something standing upright on the ground. He opened his other eye. An object covered with a blanket. And best of all, it didn't appear to be breathing. In fact, it wasn't moving at all.

"It's not exactly somethin' ya can wrap an' send," Hagrid explained. "Go on an' see."

Harry approached his "gift" with extreme caution. Maybe it was sleeping. No, it was definitely too oddly shaped to be an animal. His curiosity was getting the better of him. He took a deep breath, and then removed the blanket.

It was Sirius's motorcycle.

Harry felt a tug in his heart. He felt anger rise in the pit of his stomach. Anger and complete sadness. He couldn't bear to look at the bike, but he couldn't take his eyes off of it. It was vintage, but gleamed in the sunset like brand new. Hagrid had obviously put a little elbow grease into cleaning it.

"I know he'd want yeh ter have it," Hagrid announced.

Harry was barely listening. All the blood was rushing to his ears. He could hear his own heartbeat. He tore his eyes away from the motorcycle and tried to concentrate on the ground. "I don't want it," he said quietly.

"What?"   
"I don't want it!" Harry yelled.

"But 'Arry, I thought yeh could take a test drive when it's dark. There's no Astronomy tonight so nobody should see yeh. That's why I waited 'til tonight..."

"I don't want to drive it!" Harry shouted. "I don't even want to look at it!" He fought back tears in his eyes. He wished that Sirius were giving it to him, not Hagrid. He wished that Sirius would show him how to drive it, not Hagrid. It felt wrong just looking at the lonely bike behind the hut. The motorcycle made him feel miserable. He didn't want anything to do with it.

Hagrid was speechless. Harry could tell he was getting emotional. The last thing Harry wanted to see was Hagrid cry again. He turned his back on both Hagrid and the motorcycle. "I don't want it," he repeated. "I never want to see that damn bike again."

It just hurt too much, Harry realized as he stormed back up to Gryffindor Tower. If he had stayed one more second in Hagrid's company, he would have exploded. Or worse – he would have cried.

Before he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry was once again trying to find the indifference inside of him. He searched for the place where he could go to feel numb, where motorcycles and enchanted clocks and Quidditch captains meant nothing to him. He took a few deep breaths and plastered an apathetic expression on his face.

"Snap dragons," Harry muttered.

"Same to you!" the Fat Lady replied as the door swung open. He made his way inside the common room where Hermione and Ron were sitting on the same couch where Harry had spent the previous night. They were looking rather cozy together until they noticed his presence, and Ron took the opportunity to pull up a chair to the fireplace. Harry sat on the couch next to Hermione.

"So what did he get you?" she asked.

"What?" Harry stalled. He didn't want to tell Ron and Hermione the truth. He had to think of something – anything – that would satisfy their curiosity.

"Hagrid, silly," she answered. "Was it animal, vegetable, or mineral?"

"C'mon, 'Mione, we know it was an animal. Right Harry?"

"Er... Right," Harry replied. He bit his lower lip.

"Was it something big?" Ron asked. "Something ferocious?"

It was times like these Harry wished he were a better liar. "No, it was, um..." He racked his brain, trying to think of any sort of creature that was harmless that Hagrid would be vaguely interested in. "It was one of those stick bugs," he said quickly. "You know, the one that looks like a stick and blends in with the plants?"

"Hagrid got you an insect?" Hermione said incredulously.

"Yeah. But she died while Hagrid was taking care of her. He thinks that Fang may have had something to do with it," he lied.

"That's a let-down," Ron said. "I was hoping he'd given you some kind of crossbreed."

He seemed to buy the story. However, Harry could tell that Hermione didn't believe a word of what he said, but she didn't push the subject. "Anyways, Ron was just complaining about all of his homework and it's only the second day of classes."

"Hey, I don't see _you_ taking six classes," Ron grumbled.

"Life must be _so_ hard for you," Harry snapped bitterly. "Six classes, being a Prefect, Quidditch Captain..." He was almost about to add "flirting with Hermione" but thought better of it.

"Well aren't you just a little ray of sunshine?" Ron said. But he didn't seem offended.

Harry was angry. For some reason he wanted to piss off Ron in the worst way. Harry felt it was only right if his biggest problem was his schoolwork. He had nothing to complain about. He didn't have dead parents and godparents and inherited motorcycles.

"So what did Hagrid really get you, Harry?" Hermione questioned.

"Yeah, besides in a bad mood?"

"I don't want to talk about it. I'm going to bed." He stood up and stomped out of the common room. He didn't dare look back at the Ron and Hermione. He was too ashamed.

_Why am I making such a big deal out of a stupid motorcycle?_

But deep down, Harry knew the answer to that question. The motorcycle was dripping with history and emotions. The motorcycle had been Sirius's. Hagrid had used it to deliver him to the Dursleys' on that fateful night sixteen years ago. It had been on many journeys.

Harry didn't want to know where it was going to take him.


	10. The Guest Speaker

**CHAPTER TEN**

**The Guest Speaker**

Harry and Ron were both anxious to get to Muggle Studies the next day. Ron had struggled through Charms earlier that morning. Ron had spent most of lunch whining about how hard his classes were, and he only stopped after Hermione promised to help him out when Harry had Occlumency that night. A break in Muggle Studies was exactly what they needed.

"Wonder who the speaker is?" Ron said. "I hope we don't have to take notes or anything. My hand is still cramped from when Flitwick launched into the necessary motions for that reflection spell."

"I don't think I've ever seen him write quite so fast," Harry agreed. "Hey, if you get the last of the spell regulations from Hermione, will you let me copy yours?"

"Sure." Ron nodded. "You know, Harry, I've, er... Well, I've been spending a lot of time with Hermione lately and have you, er, noticed anything?"

Harry tried to hide his grin. Ron looked like he'd never been more uncomfortable. He was staring at his own feet as they hurried along the first floor corridor. He was nervously running his fingers through his red hair. "What do you mean, anything?"

"D'you think... Oh, never mind." Ron scowled. "I feel stupid. Forget it. Forget I mentioned it."

"No, come on, Ron. What were you going to say?"

Ron stopped in his tracks. He looked around, making sure that the two of them were alone. They were already running behind schedule and the hallway was deserted because everybody was already in class. "Say, Harry," Ron whispered, his voice barely audible, "what do you think my chances are with Hermione? I mean, as a... a boyfriend?"

Harry couldn't hold his laughter back anymore. He snorted and broke out into a hearty chuckle. Ron, on the other hand, was not smiling. He looked like he'd just been slapped in the face. He tried to laugh it off.

"Yeah, pretty crazy idea, huh?" Ron said sadly. "Just joking, mate. Really." He turned around and began walking towards the classroom.

"Ron, wait," Harry said. He caught up to him and blocked his pathway. "I wasn't laughing because you have no chance."

"Then why were you laughing?" Ron demanded. He was blushing hideously.

"Because it's taken you so long to realize that you _do_ have a chance," Harry replied. "I mean, I think you should go for it."

Ron brightened up immediately. "You really think so?"

"You git," Harry snapped. "I've been a witness to the tension between the two of you since the day you met each other. I don't think I could take another year of it if you two don't get your act together."

Ron's grin was stretching from ear-to-ear. "Yeah. You're right." He paused. "You know, I remember when we first met her on the train and how she..."

He quickly stopped talking as a group of third years passed by. Not wanting to reminisce with Ron about his romantic feelings about Hermione, he said quickly, "We should get going. We're going to be late." Ron nodded and the two of them walked silently down the corridor.

Ron was no doubt hatching a plan of how to win Hermione's heart. Harry, on the other hand, was feeling guilty for selfishly thinking only of himself. He wanted to be happy for Ron that he'd finally realized his true feelings for Hermione. However, if Ron and Hermione got together, what would become of the friendship he shared with each of them? Would he become nothing more than a third wheel? Would Hermione and Ron sit next to each other in every class? Would Harry have to be partnered with Neville for every project? His grades would surely suffer.

But the question that was really burning in his mind was if Ron gained a girlfriend, would Harry lose his best friend?

They were the last to arrive in the Muggle Studies classroom. The two of them found their seats in the second row.

Professor Avis was already at her desk. She glanced at them as they sat down just before the bell rang. Harry couldn't tell if she was angry or not. Promptly, she stood and walked to the front of the class.

Today she was wearing a jean skirt and a bright orange sweater. She would have looked positively muggle if it weren't for the leather jacket and matching feather boa she had tied around her waist. It was very hard to take a teacher seriously when she dressed like Professor Avis did.

"Good afternoon, sixth years. As you are all well aware of, today is the day we will begin our weekly discussion with our guest speaker. He will be lecturing the class for the first hour. I want you all to treat him with the same respect you would give any other teacher. He has kindly taken time out of his busy schedule with the Ministry to educate all of us on the wonders of Muggle Life. I'd like you all to welcome Mr. Arthur Weasley."

There was some applause as Mr. Weasley stepped out of Professor Avis's office. Harry heard Ron make a small squeaking noise. He sank low into his chair, trying desperately to become invisible.

"Thank you, thank you, you're too kind," Mr. Weasley said. He took over Professor Avis's spot at in front of the chalkboard. She took a seat at her desk and folded her hands in front of her, watching Mr. Weasley inquiringly. "Once again, good afternoon to all of you. As Professor Avis mentioned, I am Arthur Weasley. I work at the Ministry of Magic Headquarters in London. I work in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, where we often work with Muggles and some of their amazing devices."

Mr. Weasley scanned the class, his gaze stopped when it reached Ron and Harry. He winked. Ron sank lower into his seat. "Please don't talk about me," he whimpered. "Please don't talk to me."

Harry didn't understand why Ron was embarrassed to have his dad lecture the Muggle Studies class. If anything, Harry thought he would have been proud that his father was so involved with the class.

He cleared his throat. "Now, throughout my lectures, please don't hesitate to interrupt and ask questions. I understand that some of you know very little about Muggle life, especially those of you who come from ancient wizarding bloodlines. Some of you may also be very familiar with the ways of Muggles. Some of you may have even thought you were Muggles up until you received your letter from Hogwarts. But I digress..."

Mr. Weasley began to pace the front of the classroom. "Now, to stick to Professor Avis's plan, we'll first be discussing the daily life of a Muggle. Does anybody have any questions before we start?"

A hand shot into the air. It belonged to Ravenclaw boy. Mr. Weasley called on him, and he asked about what Mr. Weasley did at the Ministry.

"I have been involved with raids of illegally enchanted objects. I am also first on the scene during Muggle Relations incidents. For example, if a Muggle somehow ends up with a bewitched object, I go to where the accident occurred. I assess the damage and also working with the Wizarding Task Force to perform memory modifications and emergency spells, if necessary. Last week we had a problem with one of those flesh-engraving quills. A poor chap was trying to address a love letter to his mistress and wound up with her address etched on his forehead for his wife to see. Needless to say, it was a very messy cleanup, not to mention all of the morality issues we had to deal with."

A flesh-engraving quill? Harry wasn't aware there was a name for Umbridge's cruel detention tool. When Harry looked down, he could still sometimes see the scars reading, _I must not tell lies_ on his hand.

Mr. Weasley launched into stories about some of the most complicated and funniest situations he'd ever run into at the ministry, including stories of shrinking keys. After a few tales of misfortune, Ron was no long embarrassed by his dad but seemed proud. He had even joined in on some of the stories. "Dad, tell the one about the spitting tea pot!" he cried.

The class also had the utmost respect for Mr. Weasley, listening carefully to his stories. Harry didn't need to take notes on the lecture – he was sure he would remember all of it. There wasn't a moment of boredom. The hour had passed by so quickly that everyone was sad to see Mr. Weasley leave. He assured everyone that he would be back again next week and they would stick to the topic at hand. "I'm afraid we went off on a bit of a tangent," he added.

"That's quite all right," Professor Avis said. "I hope all of you realize that these tales of Muggle misfortune may seem funny, but they are very serious."

"Indeed," Mr. Weasley agreed. His voice was grave. "It is very difficult for the Wizarding World to remain secret when there are so many wizards out there with a sick sense of humor. Muggles have also been killed in these so-called harmless practical jokes. And the Ministry is not just trying to keep our world a secret, but also protect the innocent. Teaching tolerance is the only way to prevent these incidents from happening."

Harry expected Mr. Weasley to mention something about Voldemort's return and the threat to the Muggle world, but he didn't. After saying goodbye to the class, he headed back into Professor Avis's office, where Harry assumed he had a Portkey waiting.

Professor Avis spent the rest of the class talking about the punishment for such practical jokes played on muggles. "Many cases have resulted in heavy fines, breaking wands, magic bans, or even sentences in Azkaban. This is a serious issue and has jeopardized many of our Muggle relations. Now, for next week, I'd like you all to read the first three chapters in your textbooks. And take good notes. We'll be having a discussion about it on Monday, and I'll also be passing out our Muggle fiction novel. That's all for this week."

The bell rang, signaling the end of the class. All of the students were quickly taking their books and leaving the room. Ron turned to Harry. "Bet Hermione'll be kicking herself now. Thought she wouldn't learn anything," he said. "I'm sure we'll be learning loads from my dad."

Harry didn't say anything out loud, but he doubted that Hermione would agree. At one point, she had wanted to take Muggle Studies to see how professors in the wizarding world would teach about Muggles. But now she just thought that the class was a waste of time in her case.

The two of them returned to the dormitory and dropped their books on their nightstands. "It's my afternoon off," Ron announced, plopping on his bed. What should we do?"

"Homework?" Harry suggested, grinning. "Nah."

"Want to play some Quidditch?" Ron asked. "Have to keep you in shape since you don't have to tryout on Thursday."

"That's only because I've got Occlumency," Harry muttered.

"No it's not, Harry. You know that you've got your Seeker spot back. You've got nothing to worry about. Things can just go back to normal."

Harry knew that things would never be normal now. Playing Quidditch didn't bring the relief to him that it used to now that Ron was the captain. And then he felt ashamed for his envy. Why couldn't he just accept the fact that he couldn't have everything? Was he so self-centered that he could only think of himself?

"How about helping me come up with some plays or something?" Ron questioned, disturbing his thoughts.

"I don't know." Harry stared out the window. It was a humid day and there were dark clouds in the distance. The gray smoke from Hagrid's chimney rose high into the sky and blended into them. "Might rain."

"If we're quick, we could make it," Ron said hopefully.

Harry shook his head, still staring at Hagrid's lonely little hut. "There's something else I've got to do." The weight of guilt was finally too much for him to handle. He had been terrible to Hagrid last night. He'd acted like a child. He felt so humiliated. Was this how he treated his friends? The people who cared about him the most?

"What's more important than Quidditch?"

Harry sighed. "I've got to apologize to Hagrid. Last night, well..." his voice trailed off. He turned to face Ron, but didn't meet his eyes. "I said some awful things."

"Because Fang killed your stick bug?" Ron asked.

He smiled sadly. "Hagrid didn't give me an insect. He gave me a motorcycle. Sirius's motorcycle."

"Oh. _Oh_," Ron said. "So that's why you were in such a ruddy mood."

Harry nodded. "I didn't know how to react. It was just... there. It was hard to look at." He fell silent. His feelings about Sirius's motorcycle were not something that Harry wanted to share with Ron. Ron would think he was stupid for his confession – or worse, he would pity him. Harry just couldn't take being pitied by his best friend. "So I've got to go apologize."

"Are you sure? Hagrid would understand, you know."

"He's only blaming himself. I'm sure of it." Harry stood up from his bed. "I better go now. I don't want to make things worse by waiting." He quickly left the dormitory.

In truth, Harry didn't quite know what to say to Hagrid. He was sorry for the way he acted, but he just couldn't understand how it had been a wise decision to give him the motorcycle in the first place. What was Harry supposed to do with it? Come visit it every few days like a shrine to his godfather? It made no sense. He couldn't even ride it.

He left Gryffindor Tower and walked swiftly to the grounds. He could feel the heat against his skin. It was pooling beneath his hair, on the back of his neck. He wished it would rain. The weather seemed only fitting to his mood.

As he approached Hagrid's Hut, he could hear voices echoing through the trees of the Dark Forest. Hagrid was teaching a group of students. Harry had forgotten that not everyone's schedule was the same as his.

He was about to turn back, but Hagrid had already spotted him and motioned for him to join the class at the edge of the forest. It was a group of fifth years. The Gryffindors were there, along with the students from Ravenclaw. They were gathered around a freshly-dug earthen bed. There was a handful of Nifflers – furry creatures who searched for shiny objects. Ginny was holding one on a leash. She waved to Harry as he stepped closer.

"'Ello, 'Arry," Hagrid greeted. His face seemed to brighten up a little. We wasn't wearing his teaching coat that he'd worn the night before, but he did have his hair tied back neatly in a ribbon. His shirt didn't even appear to have any holes in it. The sleeves were rolled up and he was glistening with a touch of sweat from the humidity.

"Hi, Hagrid," Harry replied. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that you were in the middle of a lesson."

"'At's all right. You're welcome to come anytime. One of me favorite lessons today. Kids enjoy 'em too, those Nifflers. Thought I'd give them a familiar creature to start the new year off with."

Harry nodded. He remembered his own Niffler lesson years ago. He watched as the class laughed as their Nifflers playfully searched the dirt for coins that Hagrid had buried in the ground. An apology on the tip of his tongue, he turned to Hagrid. "I'm sorry. About last night. I didn't know what I was saying. I was completely inconsiderate..."

"Aw, 'Arry, you don't need to apologize," he interrupted. "I know it's been rough on ya. We should've known yeh weren't ready." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. "I'll just 'ang onto it. Yeh can visit 'er anytime."

"Well, thanks," Harry replied. "What do you mean – we?"

Hagrid smiled. "We're just lookin' out for yeh, Harry. That's all. Careful, there, Henry!" Hagrid bellowed at a Ravenclaw fifth-year. "He'll go right through yer hand ta get ter them coins."

Ginny had handed her Niffler over to one of her friends. She made her way over to Harry. Harry felt strangely uncomfortable. Her face was set as though she were on a mission. He seemed to sweat even more as she joined him and Hagrid.

"Harry, we need to talk," she said.

Harry felt his stomach lurch. No conversation that have ever started with the phrase ever worked out well. Hagrid cleared his throat. "Right, well, I'd better go see who's collected the most coins. Don't take too long, Ginny," he added as he walked towards the other fifth-years.

"I... I can't right now, Ginny," Harry explained. "Ron and I were hoping to play some Quidditch before it rained." The humidity was so thick in the air it was hard for him to speak. Or was it just that Ginny looked as though she were about to ambush him again.

"My brother can wait," she said. "This is about us."

_Us_. Harry gulped. "What do you mean?"

"We need to talk about the night before your birthday."

"Oh, right." Harry would have given anything to be in a different place or a different person. Why was Ginny talking about this now? In front of everyone during Hagrid's lesson? But as Harry searched the grounds, looking everywhere but Ginny's eyes, he realized that nobody was paying attention to them at all. Hagrid was busy counting coins and the students were carefully petting Nifflers and rewarding them with some bits of treats that looked like chocolate.

"I should have told you sooner," she began. "I should have told you right after I did it, but it just happened so fast. Not to mention that all of my brothers were around at home."

Harry pretended to know what she was talking about, but the more she said, the more confused he was. "Okay..."

She swept a piece of red hair behind her ear, removing it from her face. "There's just no easy way to say this, Harry."

He gulped. "Well, then, maybe you shouldn't say it all." Ginny could not confess her love for him right there, right then. Harry would probably keel over and die on the spot.

"I have to. I've got to put an end to all of the wondering." She took a step closer to him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Harry, I just want you to know, that you don't have to worry about me."

Confused, Harry took a step back. "What? What are you talking about?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "I said you don't have to worry about me." When he still looked confused, she put her hands on her hips and tapped one foot impatiently. "Haven't you been wondering why I kissed you?"

"Kissed?" Harry cried. "Is that what you call it? And yes, of course I've been wondering."

She was laughing now. "You don't get it, do you? I had to try it. I had to try it or for the rest of my life I'd be wondering what might have been."

Frustrated, Harry ran his fingers through his unruly dark hair. "What the hell are you talking about, Gin?"

"I'm not in love with you," she said finally. "I kissed you because I had to make sure that there was nothing between us. I kissed you because I knew that if I didn't, I'd always wonder. I'd always worry about what might have been. But now I know. I don't have any _true_ romantic feelings for you."

Harry's mouth dropped open. He couldn't believe that she'd been so honest. So direct. She winced, looking as though she may have hurt him. But on the contrary, somewhere inside, he was relieved. Had Ginny been in love with him, it only would have added more stress and more obstacles in his life. Although his ego was a little bruised.

And now that he thought back to their kiss, he didn't feel anything romantic about it either. He had been confused, and then he'd waited for it to end. There were no fireworks, no bells and whistles.

He grinned at her. "Well, that's... that's actually..." He didn't know quite what to say. "I'm so glad you told me!"

She laughed. "Me too. I mean, lately I've been feeling as though you're walking on eggshells when you're around me. I don't want it to be that way. You're my friend, Harry, and I'll always love you. It's just not a romantic love."

"I know exactly what you mean," he replied. And he did. He knew that Ginny would always hold a special place in his heart. But loving her was not the same as being in love with her.

"Well, I'd better get back to class before Hagrid gets mad," she said. "I'll see you at dinner!" She quickly turned around and sauntered off to join the rest of the class.

As Harry walked back up to Hogwarts, his steps had never seemed so light. Even the air did not weigh as heavy on his shoulders as it had earlier. He had so much respect for Ginny. She was a smart girl. She knew exactly what she wanted – or in his case, what she didn't want – and she went for it. She was fearless.

Harry was feeling truly happy for the first time since he'd arrived at Hogwarts. He still had his position on the Quidditch team, he'd apologized to Hagrid, and Ginny had fixed things between the two of them. Despite all of his troubles, Harry could finally enjoy himself again. Charlie was right: he didn't need to be in love to be happy.


	11. The Diary

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**The Diary**

Whenever Harry was dreading something, time moved quickly. So quickly, in fact, that when he found himself outside of Snape's office in the dungeon on Thursday evening, he wondered how he'd gotten there. Had it only been the day before when his heart had been light and he was happy with the world? He'd spent the entire afternoon brooding over what was to come for his Occlumency lesson. He would have much rather been at Quidditch tryouts, but under the circumstances, McGonagall insisted that Harry attend Occlumency.

Harry took a deep breath and knocked on Snape's door. The air smelled vaguely of the spiced salmon they'd eaten two days earlier for lunch. Harry wondered if the house-elves had mistaken Snape's office for the garbage disposal. It would have been understandable.

Instead of inviting Harry in, Snape met him at the door and closed it quickly behind him. He was carrying a leather-bound book in his greasy hands. "Have a seat, Potter. There are things we'll need to discuss before tonight's lesson."

Harry didn't protest, and took a seat behind one of the tables in the Potions classroom. Snape sat on the edge of his desk at near the blackboard and tossed the book over to Harry. "This is a dream diary," Snape spat. Harry flipped through the brown book quickly, and saw that it was filled with blank parchment. "Use it everyday. When you wake up every morning, you must record what you can remember of any dream you had the night before. If you have any sort of visions, sleeping or not, you are to record them in these pages. If you feel any pain, you are to write about it."

Harry frowned. A diary? His duty to the Order was to confide everything in a diary? Like some schoolgirl? "I don't know..." Harry began.

"You have no choice, Potter," Snape replied. The tension was growing between them. Harry wished that he hadn't thanked Snape earlier in the week. It was a moment of weakness. Why should he thank such a horrible monster of a person? "The pages are bewitched to copy to an identical journal. Whatever you write will be viewed by the Order. Do you understand?"

He nodded. The only way the Order could keep tabs on what sort of information he and Voldemort were exchanging was by monitoring his dreams and visions. Harry wondered where the other diary was, and who would be viewing it when he wrote. This would not be like keeping a dream record as he had done for Professor Trelawney. This was strictly business.

But all summer he hadn't dreamt about Voldemort at all. Of course, there had been just nightmares in general about the Dark Lord and Sirius's death, but nothing like a vision.

"Get up," Snape commanded. "It's time to see how much you've been practicing."

Harry glared at Snape, then reluctantly stood up from his seat. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, and then took a deep breath.

"Clear your mind, Potter," Snape said. "I'm not going to go easy on you."

He didn't expect anything less. The two of them assumed the dueling position. Harry did his best to clear his mind and have a defense of absolutely no thoughts. He was still feeling refreshed about yesterday. Ginny was not madly in love with him and he had fixed things with Hagrid. Of course, there were always the lingering thoughts of Ron's captain position and his newfound feelings towards Hermione. Harry tried to push that out of his mind.

Snape raised his wand and glared at Harry with his dark eyes. "_Legilimens!_"

Harry was a blank. He was a clean slate. He couldn't – wouldn't – allow Snape to access his memories. But he was weak. He had tried to practice on his own over the summer. It was particularly easy to clear his mind while ripping into Dudley's punching bag.

He'd managed to squeak out a feeble boil curse before he was taken inside his own memories to the Department of Mysteries, staring at the shelves of Prophecies. But it was no use; he fell to his knees on the dungeon floor.

"Tisk, tisk, Potter," Snape said, lowering his wand. "I thought you'd do better than that." But there was one tiny boil that had appeared on the tip of Snape's nose. He probably couldn't see it with his greasy hair in the way. Harry had at least succeeded in one thing. "Again."

Harry got up on his feet again, poised and ready for the next attack. He had to close his mind. He couldn't let Snape see inside of him. He had to be indifferent, the way he'd felt all summer. He could show no emotion. He could remember nothing.

"_Legilimens!_"

He gasped. His mind had been more vulnerable the second time. There were beads of sweat forming in the creases of his forehead. He must not let Snape see. He had too much to hide. He had too much pride.

Harry whispered the banishing spell at first. Then he saw a vision of Snape in Professor Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore peered down at him from the telescope on the upper level. Dumbledore was younger. His hair was still white, but his beard was not as long. "You're late, Severus. The alignment has passed."

Snape's memory snapped him back to reality and Harry found his voice. He shouted the spell at the top of his lungs. Snape was thrown back into his desk. The banishing charm was not nearly as powerful as it should have been, but it still had swept him off his feet.

Snape regained his composure. Something in his eyes changed as he watched Harry. "Good job, Potter." Had Professor Snape actually _congratulated_ Harry? Harry thought that perhaps Snape had hit him with a delusional spell when he wasn't paying attention. However, the impressed glimmer in Snape's eyes quickly disappeared, and there was no doubt in Harry's mind that Snape enjoyed torturing him. "But let's see how much you can take." He raised his wand once again, barely giving Harry time to take a breath, and bellowed, "_Legilimens!_"

He was playing dirty. Snape hadn't given him the chance to recover and he was thrown off balance. Suddenly, he was in Dumbledore's office again. However, it was an older Dumbledore, the one that Harry knew, and he was sitting patiently at his desk as Harry threw his possessions around the room.

"No..." Harry brought his hands to his forehead, covering his scar. He didn't want Snape to see that. He was ashamed. That had been a time when he had lost control of his emotions.

Dumbledore was still at his desk, and Harry's heart quivered as a small tear ran down the headmaster's cheek. "NO!"

The Harry in the dungeon fell forward, painfully landing on his knees. Snape pulled his wand away. "Temper, temper, Potter," Snape said, making a clicking noise in the back of his throat.

Anger was rising inside of Harry. He was on his feet in a matter of seconds. He wanted to launch himself across the room at Snape and rip him apart with his bare hands. But this was what he needed to control. He couldn't lose his temper. He couldn't show emotion. He needed to be numb.

Snape's eyes narrowed as he watched Harry struggling to conquer his own feelings. "Maybe there's hope for you yet," Snape muttered. "Again!"

Harry stumbled back to Gryffindor Tower, his heart heavy and his scar sore and aching. The weight of the leather-bound diary felt like he was carrying a body underneath his right arm. There were still people in the common room when he returned, including Ron and Hermione, but Harry didn't even bother to stop and speak to them. He went directly up to his dormitory and plopped down on his bed.

How was he supposed to find the strength – the energy, even – to practice Occlumency twice a week? According to Snape, it was only going to get harder from here on out. When was he supposed to do his homework?

He felt himself drifting off to sleep and quickly stood up from the bed. He hid the diary inside of his nightstand and managed to get undressed before falling into bed out of exhaustion. He fell asleep on as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The first few hours of sleep were dreamless. He didn't hear the other boys enter the dormitory or Neville's heavy snores from his bed. It was during the in-between time, when the moon had disappeared but the sun didn't rise yet, that he slowly slipped in and out of consciousness.

Harry found himself in a room, unfamiliar and musty, sitting in a rocking chair. He could hear the wooden rocking chair creaking against the dusty floor, squeaking with every move.

He could see in the darkness. He could see his pale, bony hands folded in his lap. His dark robes stretched down past his feet. _Creak_. _Creak. Creak_. His rhythm did not waiver as a giant snake coiled at his feet, its red eyes glowing brightly.

Harry didn't know how to explain it, but he knew the snake was warning him that someone was approaching. "It is only Wormtail," he said. There was a knock on the door. Harry stopped rocking. "Come in. What news do you have?"

A short and feeble man, who Harry recognized as Peter Petirgrew, entered cautiously. "We have bargained with one of the guards. He will let her go in return for money and safe passage out of England, Master," Wormtail replied. "But it is a lot of money. He requests one-hundred thousand Galleons."

"Give it to him," Harry replied. "She is worth more to me." There was a burning inside Harry in a place he didn't know existed: the hollow heart cavity in his pathetic excuse for a human body. When he spoke of _her_, it seared with desire. "Once free, they will all see to it that he does not make it out of the country****alive."

"Yes, Master. And what of the others?"

A jolt of pain flared inside of Harry's head. He lifted his boney hand to his forehead, where he rubbed his scar.

Scar? He had no scar.

"He is watching!" hissed a distant voice.

The pain in Harry's head became unbearable. He felt as though it were splitting in two. He sat up quickly in his four-poster. It took him a moment to understand where he was. He had just been someplace else. A dusty room with a snake and a rocking chair and boney hands.

The visions had returned.

He was panting heavily in the darkness of the dormitory. Thankfully, it appeared that everyone was still asleep. Harry wasn't quite sure what to do. At another time, he would have jumped out of bed and wrote a letter to Sirius. But it was no use thinking of the dead now.

He could write to Remus instead. But then there was always the chance that the letter would be intercepted. He could go to Dumbledore. But somehow, Harry couldn't bring himself to wake up Dumbledore just before dawn to confess a vision to him.

And then he knew there was only one answer: the diary. He had almost forgotten about it. Quietly, he got out of bed and dug the journal out of his nightstand. He grabbed a quill and tip-toed down to the common room.

Afraid that the vividness from his dream would disappear, Harry threw the diary down on the nearest table and hastily lit a candle. He tried to recall everything from the vision, but it was all getting blurry. He could still hear the creaking of the rocking chair, but what exactly had Wormtail said?

There was something about money. They were going to bribe someone. They were going to bribe a guard to set someone free. To set _her_ free. And "her" could only mean one person.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

Harry's insides burned with anger. He loathed her. If he ever saw her again, he would kill her. There was no doubt in his mind. But Voldemort felt differently about her. He'd actually _felt_ something for her. Harry could feel the familiar pain in his chest, but it wasn't the same as anger.

There really was a fine line between love and hate, he realized.

He wrote down everything he could remember about the dream. If only Wormtail had mentioned some kind of timetable. When were they planning on getting rid of the guard? When would the Death Eaters be free? Would it be possible to prevent their escape?

As Harry scratched the quill against the parchment, he realized that it was no ordinary paper. Every inkblot he made would duplicate itself in a blurry puddle, and then eventually sharpen into one copy of his handwriting. He wondered, eerily, who had the other journal, and where it was being kept. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He felt like he was being watched.

"Can you not sleep, Harry Potter, sir?" squeaked a voice from the corner of the room.

Harry slammed the diary shut and jumped out of his chair. He reached for his wand, then realized he'd forgotten it in his robe in the boy's dormitory. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that it was Dobby, the house-elf. He was dressed in brilliant scarlet shorts – hand-knitted, of course – and a vest of gold fabric. He looked a little bit like a genie from a movie Harry saw clips of once, but at least it was better than a tea cozy.

"Dobby!" Harry cried. "You scared me."

"Sorry, sir. I is just wondering why Harry Potter is up so early, sir." He approached Harry with wide eyes. He tugged nervously on one of his big ears.

"It's all right, Dobby," Harry replied. "Early?" Harry glanced out the window. The sun was peeking over the horizon. He could almost see the outline of the grounds below. He sighed. There was no point in going back to bed now.

"Early by wizard time," Dobby replied. "I is running late with chores, sir. My apologies, Harry Potter, sir."

"No problem," Harry replied. "How was your summer, Dobby?"

Dobby squealed. His eyes tightened with wetness as he took a step closer to Harry. "Harry Potter is asking Dobby about his summer? Oh, Harry Potter is truly the most kind, most generous..."

"It was good, then?" Harry interrupted with a grin. He did not want to hear about how great he was from the house-elf for just being polite.

"Oh yes, sir. Dobby went to London for five days, sir. The most days Dobby has gone without working." He seemed to be holding back from punishing himself. "I visited with other house-elves."

"Freed house-elves?" Harry questioned.

Dobby nodded. "Oh yes, sir. In fact, there is a group of freed elves in London."

Harry turned his head sharply. "What?" The only free house-elves he'd ever heard of were Dobby and Winky, and only Dobby was actually enjoying his freedom. Was there really a clan of free house-elves somewhere?

Suddenly, Dobby slammed his head on the table Harry was working at. "Dobby is running late, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby must get back to work!"

"But Dobby..."

"Dobby is sorry, sir. Perhaps we can chat another time. Next time Harry Potter cannot sleep, sir, he should come down to the kitchen for some tea, sir." He tugged on his ear again. "But Harry Potter should leave his Wheezy and Young Miss at home, sir."

Harry laughed. Hermione hadn't exactly made the best impression on the house-elves with her liberating ideals. With a small smile and wink, Dobby snapped his fingers and disappeared from the Gryffindor Common Room.

After returning the diary to his nightstand drawer, Harry plopped back down on his four-poster and tried to fall back asleep, but it was no use. As the dormitory lightened from the sunrise, his fellow Gryffindors were waking up and getting dressed, hurrying down to breakfast. Harry waited for Ron to stir and the two of them headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Hermione was already there, reading her copy of _The Daily Prophet_ over morning tea. She watched Harry carefully as he sat down next to her. "How was Remedial Potions?" she asked cautiously.

"Oh, wonderful," Harry replied sarcastically. He looked around the table, making sure that nobody was listening. He explained about the diary.

"I've seen one of those," Ron whispered. "Mum had one when she went to Hogwarts. It's called a Diary Dupuliquer. She and one of her friends would write back and forth to each other during their History of Magic class."

Harry couldn't help but wonder if this was the same diary that Mrs. Weasley had used during her school years. Perhaps she had the counterpart to the one Harry was using. He'd have to watch his language if Mrs. Weasley was the one reading what he wrote.

"Did you write anything in it yet?" Ron asked.

Harry looked down at his plate of eggs. He'd suddenly lost his appetite. "Well, yes. I did have a dream – a vision – last night." He told the two of them about how he'd been Voldemort again, and Wormtail was telling him all about the plan to break Bellatrix out of Azkaban.

"This is serious, Harry!" Hermione interrupted. "I know you wrote it down in that diary, but you should really go and talk to Dumbledore about it."

"That's your answer to everything, Hermione!" Harry snapped. He hated running to Dumbledore for every little problem he had. "Besides, I'm sure that he already knows. Probably, the whole purpose of this diary is so that I don't have to run to his office every time I have a vision. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the Order and the Ministry already have everything under control over at Azkaban."

Hermione still looked skeptical, but she dropped the subject. Harry was grateful. He hadn't made a trip to Dumbledore's office yet this year, and he wanted to prolong his first visit for as long as possible. Whenever Harry went to his office, it was almost always bad news.


	12. The HouseElves' Servitude

**CHAPTER TWELVE **

**The House-Elves' Servitude**

One afternoon Harry found himself trying desperately hard to stay awake during Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had spent half the night before in Snape's dungeon practicing Occlumency. Snape was out for blood. And it wasn't enough torture in Occlumency – Harry had the impression that Snape enjoyed watching his misery in Potions as he fumbled for his ingredients. At this rate, he would have no chance at passing a N.E.W.T. Potions test. He could kiss being an Auror goodbye.

Professor Leurre was pacing the front of the classroom, glancing down at some notes she had written. She'd just finished discussing the basics of dueling defense when she turned to the class, her face serious. "The time has come," she said, "for me to answer some of your questions about ancient magic. I must say that you are a very observant group. Most of your essays were impressive." She glanced in the direction of several Slytherins, her eyes narrowed. Harry knew that Malfoy didn't like Professor Leurre much.

The Slytherin house had been treating Malfoy like a hero. Even though his father was in Azkaban, he declared his innocence at every opportunity to anyone who would listen. Harry knew he was only doing it to keep up appearances. He was loyal to his father like some mangy old mutt. However, Harry thought Malfoy was a coward, and if he had actually dealt with Voldemort, he would probably wet himself.

"Now, I only have time to give you a general background on the subject today," Professor Leurre said. Harry glanced at his watch. There were only a few minutes before the bell rang. "But as I said before, ancient magic is limitless. It will never go away. It is hidden in the darkest of places. No witch or wizard truly understands all of its capabilities. Not even Voldemort." Most of the students in the class still shuttered at the sound of his name. Professor Leurre ignored them. "Not even Dumbledore." She paused and leaned back against her desktop. "The only masters of ancient magic, the only ones who really understand all of its secrets, are house-elves."

At the mentioning of house-elves, Harry saw Hermione's head instantly snap to attention. There was some noise from the rest of the class as well.

Harry had never thought of it before, but now it made sense. Dobby had some kind of powerful magic that let him disapparate on Hogwarts grounds. It was hard to believe that such power was given to such a small race. And the entire purpose of a house-elf was to serve a wizard, when in fact, they could rule the world if they wanted to.

"House-elves have served wizards for centuries," Professor Leurre continued. "Their magic knows no bounds. The origin of the first house-elf is unknown, but legend has it that the first house-elf was bound to a wizard family by a curse. The first house-elf had abused its power, and each house-elf thereafter would be forced to carry out his sentence until he was given back his dignity by receiving clothes."

Malfoy glared at Harry with his beady eyes. Dobby had been the Malfoy's house-elf until Harry had sent him free during his second year. Dobby had been the one to save him from Lucius Malfoy's wrath.

Hermione's hand shot into the air. Professor Leurre called on her. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"What exactly did the first house-elf do to receive this kind of punishment?"

"Excellent question," Professor Leurre said. "According to legend, the house-elf tried to become immortal by feeding off of the wizarding family. So from then on, he had to serve the family to repay them for the pain he had caused."

"And who decided this punishment?" Hermione asked. "Because it all seems rather unfair to me."

"Big surprise," Malfoy spat. "Stupid Mudblood, asking stupid questions."

"Watch your mouth, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Leurre scolded. "Ten points from Slytherin."

"Ten points well worth it," Malfoy muttered. But the professor didn't hear him. Ron, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to launch himself across the room and beat Malfoy into a pulp.

"Actually, the house-elf decided the punishment with the spell he was using. Ancient magic works in mysterious ways. I know this is all very confusing and hard for you all to understand, but there is a certain balance that magic achieves. The house-elf used the family, so in return, the family used the house-elf."

"So just because one house-elf made a mistake, the rest of the race has to suffer for eternity?" Hermione interrupted.

Harry thought Professor Leurre would be upset with Hermione, but she smiled with that same spark in her eye she'd had before. "Who said it was for an eternity?" she questioned coyly. "However, it has always been in the house-elves' nature to serve others. Now, as much as you'd like to discuss the mistreatment of house-elves, I'm not going to allow you to do it during my class time. I'm lecturing on ancient magic, not house-elf history."

But before she could continue, the bell rang signaling the end of class. She sighed. "Next time we'll be discussing a little bit about chapter seven and a lot about ancient magic. Class dismissed."

Most of the class jumped out of their seats and headed towards the doorway, but Hermione had stayed behind. She looked as though she were going to ask some more questions about house-elves.

Harry wondered if Hermione knew of this clan of free house-elves in London. Professor Leurre seemed to be rather knowledgeable about the subject; perhaps she had heard of them too. He considered staying behind and asking, but he could tell that Hermione's mind was on the S.P.E.W., and he wanted to steer clear of that conversation if at all possible.

Professor Leurre was fussing with a jar of toads she'd used for a demonstration. As Harry and Ron walked by her desk, one of them jumped from its open jar and hopped along the floor. Professor Leurre tried to pick it up, but she nearly dropped the jars she was holding. Harry quickly bent over and tried to catch the frog. He got it by the hind legs but it hopped away. He took another step forward and caught it with both hands.

"I've got it," Harry said. He gave it back to Professor Leurre, who put it in a jar with a secured lid and added it to the other frogs on her desk.

"Thanks, Harry," she said brightly. Harry saw that maybe she didn't look so much like McGonagall now that he was closer to her. Her expression was almost child-like. She had a twinkle in her eye that McGonagall only had when she spoke of Quidditch. "Oh, I think you dropped something," she said. She walked over to where Harry had caught the frog and picked up a small, gray orb.

Harry gasped. It was Remus's Moon Guide.

"Where did you get this?" she demanded. She held it in the palm of her hand, staring at it as though it were going to jump up and bite her.

Harry didn't even realize that somebody would know what it even was. What was he supposed to say? That he got it from Remus? "I, well, er... I mean... It was a gift."

Professor Leurre kept her eyes on the Moon Guide. "I see."

He feared for a moment that she was going to keep it until the end of the year – like the fake Moody had done with the Marauder's Map – but she held it out to him. Carefully, Harry took it from her.

"Don't want to lose that, Potter," she said. "Keep it safe." She turned away, her mood substantially deflated, and the sparkle gone from her eyes. She cleared her throat. "The headmaster wants to see you in his office."

What had happened? Why would Dumbledore want to see him? "I... okay..."

Professor Leurre took a step closer to him, her voice barely above a whisper. "The password is Ton-Tongue Toffee."

He didn't know if he was more shocked because he'd actually been called to Dumbledore's office, or because the headmaster was a fan of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Harry nodded and glanced wearily at Hermione and Ron. As they walked by Hermione, Ron grabbed her by the sleeve and hauled her outside. She looked like she would have rather bombarded Professor Leurre with questions about house-elves.

"What was that all about?" Ron questioned.

"That was really odd, Harry," Hermione agreed. "D'you think she really knew what it was?"

Harry shrugged. They didn't know the whole story. "There's something I didn't tell you two. Not only does this show me the phases of the moon," he said quietly, "when I look into it, I can see where Remus is. I can see what he's doing."

"So it's like a surveillance item?" Hermione questioned. "Incredible! It even works on Hogwarts grounds? It must be more than an enchanted object."

"Wait, so you can spy on Lupin?" Ron asked.

"As long as he's wearing this special chain around his neck," Harry replied. "He said that it was another gift from Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. I think it's a one-of-a-kind magical item."

"Do you think she knew what it really was?" Hermione questioned.

"Well, Remus did mention that somebody else had the Moon Guide before." Harry tried to think back to his birthday. "If I remember correctly," he said suddenly, "Remus mentioned that it was a woman. He said that whoever had it before, she didn't want it anymore."

"She? Remus has a girlfriend?" Ron questioned.

"Not anymore, by the sounds of it," Harry replied. "But you don't think... Professor Leurre and Remus? She's not at all his type."

"That would be like Lupin dating McGonagall!" Ron cried. He had a sickened expression on his face. "There's no way. Remus is smarter than that."

"And what is wrong with Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Some men are attracted to bright, head-strong women!"

Knowing that this was entirely true from his own personal experience, Ron shut up.

"I've got to go," Harry said. "Professor Leurre said that Dumbledore wants to see me in his office straight away."

"What for?"

Harry shrugged. "I've no clue. I hope it's not something serious."

He said goodbye to Hermione and Ron, worrying about the meeting to come. He was lost in thought when he found himself in front of a statue of a stone gargoyle, planted at the entrance to Dumbledore's office. He walked up to the wall and quietly said, "Ton-tongue toffee." The statue rolled away and revealed a staircase. Quietly, Harry followed the pathway to Dumbledore's office.

He wasn't sure why Dumbledore was calling him to his office. He was rarely called there for any sort of good news. The last time he'd been in the office he had trashed it. It had been the night that Sirius died and Dumbledore had told him everything about the Prophecy. He thought back to that night and felt ashamed. Dumbledore was only doing what he thought was best for Harry.

When he reached the doorway, he knocked softly. "Come in," Dumbledore called.

Harry opened the door and stepped inside of his office. Portraits of previous headmasters hung on the walls. Some were sleeping, but oddly enough, Harry noticed that most of them were quietly watching him.

"Don't mind them," Dumbledore announced. "They're a bit nosey these days." He gestured to the chair in front of his office. "Have a seat, Harry."

Harry was a little apprehensive as he sat down. He was afraid to meet Dumbledore's eyes, but when he finally did look the old man in the face, he was relieved to see a smile. "Professor Leurre said you wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, Harry. Don't be alarmed. I just thought it would be a good idea for the two of us to have a little chat." He folded his hands together on the desktop. "I understand that you've been busy with Occlumency lately."

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I realize that you and Professor Snape have had your share of differences, and I truly appreciate your patience. However, I must stress the importance of you recording all of your dreams down in the diary."

Harry was concentrating on the grain of Dumbledore's desk. "Yes, sir."

"The Order has decided that you play an indispensable role in our defense."

Indispensable? Harry was confused. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Once you learn to control these... visions, as you call them, you will prove to be invaluable. You are our weapon, Harry." When Harry still looked puzzled, he continued. "Not only are you the key to Voldemort's demise, but you share the same sight. Though this sight is a burden, it gives an advantage to our side. That is why we are having you record your dreams, and also why we want to set up a few meetings for you with the Order."

"Meetings?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "The first one will be to discuss the vision involving Bellatrix Lestrange's escape." Harry's heart blazed inside him when he heard her name. He hated her in a way that made his entire body burn. "The Order will choose a time and place for this meeting, and we will set up some transportation for you to meet with them."

"You mean I'm going to leave Hogwarts?"

"Only at night, I assure you," Dumbledore replied. "I wish that these meetings could take place on the grounds, but the fact remains that it would be entirely suspicious to watching eyes if all of the members suddenly showed up in my office. It would not be safe. Which brings up something else I should share with you."

Harry didn't like the sound of that. He gulped.

"Owls are not safe. The Order had a message intercepted only last week and we believe that Voldemort has been tracking us somehow. Please, do not give away vital information in your letters. Use code if at all possible. And finally, there is one last thing I wish to discuss with you. Just between the two of us."

Harry winced. He hoped it didn't have anything to do with using a Fever Fudge Snackbox to get out of Charms a few days before. But when he looked up at Dumbledore, he was smiling.

"I wonder, Harry, when you are planning to resurrect my army?"

Harry's jaw dropped. He didn't know what to say.

"Everyone in the Order was very impressed with D.A. last year. We agreed that you need to put all of your emotions – all of your anger – into something productive. Continuing to teach Defense of the Dark Arts to your peers would be a very healthy outlet."

"I... sir... but you see..." Harry stuttered. How could explain to Dumbledore that he didn't want the responsibility of endangering the lives of his friends?

However, the headmaster seemed to understand his thinking. "Harry, you are not putting them into mortal peril. You are preparing them for the final battle. This nonsense about responsibility just will not do. You must continue with the meetings."

Harry was still in shock, but part of him was wondering where he'd find the time for D.A. Between Occlumency and Quidditch starting and his own studies, he barely had time to breathe. "But Professor..."

"Harry, you are a minor, and as a minor you are too young to join the Order of the Phoenix. However, that doesn't mean you can't make a difference."

Dumbledore was right. Harry was being too cautious. He was behaving like a coward about D.A. He was in Gryffindor, wasn't? He would just have to be brave and take the plunge again. They needed to learn. They needed to know how to protect themselves.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied. "I'll spread the word."

"Good." Dumbledore's blue eyes were twinkling as he stroked his long white beard. "There are a lot of people who care about you, Harry. Myself included. Please, don't hesitate to stop by if anything is on your mind."

"I won't sir," Harry said. "Thanks." He stood up from his seat and headed towards the exit.

"Oh, and Harry," Dumbledore said, "I'm sorry about Quidditch Captain, but I'm afraid there was no way around it. Professor Snape was a stickler for the rulebook. But there's always next year," he added hopefully.

_Snape_. Harry's hands coiled into fists at his side. So he was behind it all.


	13. The Dance

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

**The Dance**

The next weekend couldn't arrive soon enough for Harry. Not only was it a break from his classes, but it also meant the beginning of Quidditch. Harry was actually anxious for their first practice as a new team when he woke up on Saturday morning. Ron had booked the Pitch for a few hours after dinner that night so that they could warm up. The two of them had spent most of the day going through Oliver Wood's old playbook, which had been passed down from Angelina.

Even though Harry wasn't the captain, he couldn't help but feel a certain rite of passage as he and Ron stepped into the locker room, armed with their brooms and ideas for grueling practices. They were the oldest players on the team, and Harry was the most experienced.

Ginny had made her Chaser position, along with a girl in third year, Natalie McDonald. The third chaser was Vicki Frobisher, who had tried out for the team the year before, but had said that Charms Club would have taken priority over Quidditch. She was still a pretty good flier, and she had since rearranged her priorities. The two beaters who had taken Fred and George's place last year, Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper, had also proved to be the best beaters at the tryouts.

Ron stood at the chalkboard where there was a drawn outline of the Quidditch field. He cleared his throat. "All right everybody," he began, "I know that we're a young team this year, but that didn't stop us from winning the Cup last year, and I have no doubt that if we work hard, we'll be taking it again this year.

"Our biggest opposition will not be Slytherin," he declared. "I believe that Ravenclaw will prove to be the team to beat. It's Chang's last year, and as captain and seeker..."

A_nd my ex-girlfriend_, Harry thought.

"She will be out for blood. I had to fight her to book the field for tonight," he added. "We've only got a few hours, so I think it would be best if we run a few drills and get reacquainted with our brooms from the off-season."

After a few more encouraging words form Ron, the Gryffindor house team stepped out onto the Quidditch Pitch. The sun was setting in the west, casting long, hoop-shaped shadows onto the grassy field. It felt good to be back in the air. Harry could almost picture the Pitch full of spectators and hear Lee Jordan commentating. He wondered who would be commenting during the games now.

Ron gave them a grueling warm-up. Harry was almost dizzy from the diving and twirling. Afterwards, the balls were released. The Quaffle, Bludgers, and Snitch soared into the air. Harry brought his hand to his sweaty forehead to shade his green eyes from the sun as the golden Snitch disappeared from his sight.

He took the opportunity to look down on his fellow teammates. Ron appeared to have the confidence of a veteran player as he guarded the hoops from Ginny's advances. However, a few of her hits managed to get through. Natalie and Vicki were not as successful, though. Andrew and Jack were having some problems with the Bludgers, but by the end of practice, they seemed to have their game more under control.

By the time they hit the showers, Harry was exhausted. He stumbled back to Gryffindor Tower, wishing he could just fly up to his dormitory on his broom.

He noticed that the moon was full. His Moon Guide had been growing darker and darker ever since Professor Leurre had asked him about it. Harry felt a desire to look into the small orb, to make sure that Remus was okay, but he was also afraid of what kind of horror he might see. Harry didn't want to see him in pain.

After some mindless chatter with Hermione and Ginny, Harry and Ron both turned in at the same time. Harry's muscles were heavily fatigued and he had to walk off a leg cramp before he finally fell into bed and slept.

But he found no relief in his sleep. Suddenly, he was inside the Department of Mysteries again, as he had been in the dreams that haunted him over the summers. However, this dream was different. He was on stage in the amphitheater, where the curtains were drawn back. He could hear whispering coming from the veil.

Subconsciously, he knew he was only dreaming. He could see himself as though he were outside of the dream, looking down on the boy – no, the young man – on center stage. The young man with wild dark hair that stood up in the back. The young man with deep green eyes, sparkling behind an old pair of glasses. The young man with the lightening bolt scar on his forehead.

"Dance," commanded a voice. It boomed throughout the theater, reverberating off the walls.

_Dance?_ Harry thought. There was no music.

Clear as day, a violin and cello began a distant duet, sweet music filling the theater. It was a song Harry had heard before. It had an eerie melody. The violin was playing low, throaty notes, and the cello was high, past its normal range. They had switched roles.

"Dance."

_Dance?_ Harry questioned again. But he had no partner.

A phantom shadow of a woman appeared. He could see through the smoky figure. He couldn't make out any distinguishable features, but he could feel someone feminine beside him. He could smell her scent, gentle, yet fierce in its presence. It was a contradiction in one unmistakable scent that penetrated his nostrils. He could taste her.

"Dance!" The voice was more desperate than commanding.

_Dance?_ Harry asked. But he didn't know how.

Suddenly, her scent was all over him. He felt her small body against his, her arms around him. His feet began moving to the slow ballad of the violin and cello. He could feel the music permeate through his feet, as though he were above a noisy party and sharing a dance with a beautiful woman.

And the Harry that was removed watched as he danced with this phantom girl. They were graceful together, never missing a step. It had not been like this at the Yule Ball where he was awkward and unpleasant. There was no leader or follower. It was like dancing with a reflection. Every way was the right direction.

But it was troubling. The music was harder to hear. The voices beyond the veil were getting louder and louder. Harry had a hard time distinguishing the eerie melody from the ghostly mumbling.

The shadow of the woman was slipping away. Her taste was gone, her scent fading. Harry's leg began to hurt from the dancing.

"DANCE!" the voice cried. It sounded as though it had come from the veil. As though someone was weeping. And then Harry recognized the voice – how could he have missed it before? It was Sirius. Sirius had been shouting at him from beyond the veil, from inside the theater. Sirius was weeping.

Harry let go of the figure of the woman. The pain in his leg was growing. "Sirius!" he cried. But he couldn't hear his voice over the shouts of the other people behind the veil. "Sirius!"

"Dance," Sirius whispered. The others' voices suddenly died out into the silence. "Dance, Harry, before you forget how."

And the Harry who had watched the all of the events unfold, like an omniscient narrator, watched himself collapse on the stage, his body slamming against the hardwood floor. His legs had given out, and the last thing he saw was the dark ceiling of the theater, an entire galaxy of stars sparkling down on him, and a full moon glowing in the darkness.

Suddenly, Harry was on his bed, clutching his calf. He gasped in pain, then quickly stood up, putting all his weight on the Charlie horse. He groaned as he paced back and forth along the dormitory floor.

"All right, Harry?" Ron asked sleepily, rolling over in his four-poster.

"Yeah, leg cramp," he replied. But Ron had already fallen back to sleep.

The sharp pain eventually went away, but Harry's leg was still tender every time he flexed it. He sat down on the edge of his bed, wide awake, and not entirely sure what to do.

It had been a dream, but it was not a vision of the present. Voldemort hadn't been there. It was just another dream about Sirius. Surely, he wouldn't need to write about it in the diary. The thought of Mrs. Weasley reading about the amphitheater and the dance was enough to make his insides churn. She would only feel sorry for him.

Or worse, what if Snape had the other copy of the diary? Harry shuttered to think what Snape would do if he knew about the dreams Harry had been having about Sirius. No, it would be best for Harry just to keep this to himself.

He lay back down on his bed, wondering if he should conjure up some sort of comforting spell for his calf, and trying his best to ignore the tingling of his scar.

The next morning at breakfast, Hedwig arrived with a letter for Harry. He recognized the handwriting. It was from Remus. He waited until he was back in the common room before tearing it open and reading it.

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you? I hope this letter finds you well. Tonight is the full moon, and I must say that I am anxious for it to pass._

_I had a great time at your birthday party. I hope that you have found my gift helpful in the loneliest of times. I know that I cannot physically be there for you, but I am always only a glimpse away. I am also very sorry about the bike; Hagrid told me it didn't go well. Don't be angry with him, Harry. It's my fault._

_I hope everything is fine at Hogwarts. Have you started Quidditch yet? You must be anxious to play after a year off. I also heard that you've started Remedial Potions again. I know it's difficult, but keep studying Harry. It will prove to be very helpful in the end._

_I look forward to hearing from you,_

_Remus_

After Harry finished reading the letter, he resisted the urge to crumple it into a ball and throw it into the fireplace. Did Remus really think it would be that easy just to fill the void that Sirius had left? And now that Sirius's voice was so fresh in his memory from his dream the night before, he couldn't imagine running up to Gryffindor Tower every time something exciting happened to write a letter to Remus.

And even though he did say for Harry to blame him about the motorcycle incident, Harry just couldn't find it in his heart to not write back. What if Remus was truly worried about him? There was no harm in writing a short letter so that Remus would have something to read after the full moon. Perhaps it would cheer him up a bit after his transformation.

He found some spare parchment and a quill and quickly scratched out a letter. Harry said that he was fine, and that his first Remedial Potions lesson had gone very well. He also mentioned that he'd apologized to Hagrid and that he was sorry for the way he acted. He ended by writing that they'd had their first Quidditch practice the day before and that Ron, as captain, thought that they had a good chance at winning the Quidditch Cup.

He glanced over at Ron, who looked half-asleep over his Herbology book. He was sharing a table with Neville and Ginny. Neville seemed to be beaming with the attention he was getting. Ginny had been having problems with her Herbology homework, and Ron and Neville were working on a project together. Harry wasn't sure if Ron could really make it through this year. It was going to be hard. Between Quidditch captain, Prefect, and six N.E.W.T. classes, he was going to have his work cut out for him.

However, it was great to see Neville so happy. He seemed to have matured more over the summer. He was less clumsy, and he'd even managed to remember the Fat Lady's password, which he usually always forgot during the first few weeks. He had finally gained a little confidence.

Harry felt a little envious of him. Neville could have had the same destiny as he did now, if Voldemort had chosen Neville instead of Harry in the prophecy. But honestly, he was glad that Neville was able to enjoy his life. After all, his parents were crazy and locked up in St. Mungo's, and he lived with his batty grandmother. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Neville.

Suddenly, the burden on his shoulders didn't seem so heavy. He knew that no matter what, he would do everything in his power to protect Neville and everybody else from Voldemort. He was the chosen one. He would live up to his responsibility. He couldn't do anything less. He owed it to his friends and his family.

Family. The word felt odd to Harry, but he finally realized that he did have one.

After sealing his letter in an envelope, Harry opened the portrait door to run up to the Owlery to deliver it to Hedwig. Before he could close the door, Nora's kitten, Alley, snuck out of the common room and into the hallway.

Harry hastily shoved the letter into his back pocket and launched himself at the gray kitten. "Hey! Get back here!" he hissed. He didn't know if she was supposed to leave Gryffindor Tower or not. He didn't want it to get lost on his account.

But the kitten had moved out of the way long before Harry could catch her. He chased her down the hallway and up a flight of stairs. Every few paces she would glance back at him, as though she were playing an ironic game of cat and mouse.

Harry realized that the kitten was headed for the Owlery. He could hear hooting from the end of the corridor. The kitten stopped in front of the entrance to the Owlery and lifted a paw to casually lick while waiting for Harry to catch up to her.

He raised an eyebrow at the cat. "You're an odd one too," he whispered. He had always felt strange around cats, whether they were from Mrs. Figg's crazy clan or Crookshanks. Harry realized that Nora's cat was no different.

Harry sighed and opened the heavy door and followed the cat into the Owlery. The room reeked of hay and journeys to far away lands, and a little bit like owl droppings. There were skeletons of mice and moles near every cage.

Hedwig stuck out like a sore thumb, her head hidden beneath her snowy white feathers. She glanced at Harry as he approached her and pulled the letter out of his back pocket. She quickly stood at attention, waiting patiently for Harry to tie the letter around her claw. She ruffled her feathers a little to get Pigewidgeon's attention in the next nest. Apparently, she wanted to show him how it was done properly.

Harry pet her gently. "Back to Remus. No hurry," he added. The later he got the letter, the later he would write back, and the later Harry would feel obligated to keep him informed of the events unfolding in his life.

She nipped his fingers a bit and gave a soft hoot of acknowledgement, then took off out of the Owlery window.

Harry had been concentrating on his task so heavily that he hadn't noticed that the other owls weren't so happy that there was a cat in their territory. He wondered if he should leave the Owlery door open a jar so that Alley would be able to get out on her own. He surely wasn't going to wait for it. What business did it have in the Owlery anyways?

He thought he heard the kitten give a quiet cry, and he turned to look for her to make sure that she wasn't being attacked by any of Hogwarts' ferocious barn owls. But then Harry realized that the cry hadn't come from Alley at all.

Nora was leaning against the very last window, tears streaming down her face. Harry approached her quietly. He wasn't sure if she knew that he was there yet; he didn't want to startle her.

The kitten jumped up on the window sill and rubbed against Nora's quivering hands. She was holding a letter, and her eyes searched the paper as though she were reading it over and over again.

When Harry was only an arm's length away, he asked quietly, "Nora, are you all right?"

She jumped, and then looked relieved as she saw that it was only him. "I – I'm okay." She managed to smile and began wiping the tears away from her eyes.

Harry took a step closer. "Bad news from home?"

"No," she replied with a hint of her Irish accent. "Everything's all right. Well, as right as it could be."

He was curious what she meant by that, but he was afraid that questioning her about it would only upset her more. He was close enough to her that he could read the letter over her shoulder.

_Dear Nora,_

_I miss you so much! It's so odd to wake up every morning and be alone. I miss your humming. I miss hearing you sing off-key in the shower. I miss your whining about breakfast. But most of all, I just miss you._

_I found a new job. I'm working at an import/export flower shop. It's called Henry's Herbs. There are very odd herbs there; many of them I've never seen before. But it pays really well. I've been saving up a lot, especially now that I found that new flat. It's not on the best side of town, but rent is cheap. Who knows – at this rate I may even have enough money to take you to America for summer holiday! And I'll be sure to send you some pounds, although I can't exchange it into _your_ kind of money._

_I hope that you're not lonely. I hope you're making dozens of new friends. It must be such a wonderful place there, full of friendly faces and magical experiences. I'm so jealous. I wish I could be there with you. I even went to King's Cross and ran at the wall between Platforms Nine and Ten, but it was no use. I only ended up bruised and embarrassed. I think that it's very unfair that I don't get to visit you. How am I supposed to check up on you and make sure you're eating right? Or that you're doing all of your homework?_

_I guess I'll just have to trust you._

Nora suddenly folded up the letter and put it back inside the envelope before Harry could finish reading it. Tears were still streaming down her face. She held the letter against her chest, close to her heart.

Harry guessed that she was feeling a little homesick. He didn't know quite what to do. It was an awkward situation, but he really wanted to make her feel better. She looked so tiny, leaning against the window and trembling. He wanted to make her stop crying. "Is that from your mum?" he asked.

She shook her head. "My sister. She's a Muggle." She scoffed. "She said that she's tried to get to Hogwarts. Can you believe her? She's crazy. I told her that Muggles can't get here, not to mention that even unwelcomed wizards can't find the school."

Harry thought back to all of the things Hermione had told him about the book _Hogwarts: A History_, which discussed Hogwarts' impenetrable defenses.

"I wish she were here with me," Nora whispered. "I feel so alone."

Something tugged in Harry's heart. He felt terrible that Nora was having such a hard time at Hogwarts. He had been overjoyed to get his letter in the mail when he turned eleven. Nora, however, must not have been thrilled to leave her family and muggle life behind. She was probably the only witch on Seamus's dad's side of the family.

"What about Seamus? He's your cousin," Harry offered, as though blood determined someone's friends. He, of all people, should know that blood sometimes meant absolutely nothing.

"We were never close," she replied. "We had only met a few times before I got my letter. I mean, he tries to talk to me, but he's got his own friends."

"Well," Harry said quietly, "I'll be your friend, Nora."

She grinned up at him. "Really?"

Harry was hoping he wouldn't live to regret it, but the smile on her face warmed him up inside. He could relate to her feelings of loneliness. He understood what it felt like to be so far away from the people you loved. Of course, he'd never felt that way at Hogwarts, where he was surrounded by all of his friends. But for Nora, it was just the opposite.

"Really," he replied, and ruffled the collection of dark curls on her head. He reached over and scratched behind Alley's ears. Maybe he understood this cat more than the others. She was only looking out for her master. "You know Nora, you should smile more often."


	14. Crisis in London

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

**Crisis in London**

Occlumency was draining Harry. Every day he had it, after his classes were over, he would hurry to the library and try to finish all of his homework for the next day. He could barely make it back to the dormitory after Snape's invasion of his mind, let alone concentrate on his schoolwork.

Flitwick had given the entire class extra homework for performing badly on an advanced summoning charm. Everyone but Hermione, of course. They had to do an extra essay about the art of the Peragro charm, which was summoning items through obstacles, like walls, without damaging the object or the obstacles themselves.

He was running late as he sprinted down the dungeon stairs. He didn't even bother to catch his breath when he burst into the Potions classroom. Snape was already there, wand in hand, and waiting.

"You're late, Potter," he snapped. "Five points from Gryffindor."

"Sorry, sir," Harry replied, breathless.

"Let's begin." Snape sneered at him, as though he were insulted by his apology. He raised his wand. "_Legilimens!_"

Harry assumed the position, still trying to catch his breath. He pulled his wand from his robes and braced himself. He tried to clear his mind, but Snape hit with the spell and it was too late.

He couldn't catch his breath. The familiar pain had returned to his leg. This time he was in the graveyard with Cedric. Running away, carrying his body, limping to the trophy. He reached out, grasped it, and felt something pull behind his navel.

He was on the floor, Snape standing over him. "I am very disappointed, Potter. You are weak. Get up."

Harry got to his feet, taking his breath in sharp inhalations. The pull of the Portkey had turned into a pain in his ribcage. Or was it because of Snape's spell? He hoped to regain his composure before Snape hit him again, but as soon as he reached his feet, Snape turned on him and pummeled him. "_Legilimens!_"

The pain in his leg returned, and suddenly he was in the amphitheater in the Department of Mysteries. It was his dream. He was dancing with the shadowy figure, and for a moment, felt comfort in her arms. But the security soon disappeared.

"Dance," Sirius's voice called, "before you forget how."

Whimpering, Harry called out for his godfather, then realized he was once again on his back on the cold, hard dungeon floor.

Snape, however, did not have the look of complete triumph on his face that he usually did when he took Harry off his feet. He looked smug. "You didn't write _that_ dream down, Potter."

Harry jumped to his feet. So Snape knew of the first vision of Voldemort and Wormtail. Perhaps he did have the counterpart of his Diary Dupuliquer. "I... I didn't think it was important."

"Important?" Snape spat. "I _told_ you, Potter, to write down every damn thing that you dream about in that diary! I expect you to share everything about your dreams, whether they are about some invisible girl or your dearly departed loved ones."

"It's not fair that everyone gets to see into my private thoughts. My private dreams," Harry replied. If Snape knew about his dreams, he didn't know how many others did.

"It is a sacrifice for the Order, Potter," he declared. "In times like these, we must make sacrifices."

Harry sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll write it down."

"Don't bother with this one now," Snape replied. "He's dead. He is not worth dreaming about."

Anger welled up inside of Harry. He took a step forward, about to launch himself at Snape.

"Tsk, tsk, Potter. How will you ever master Occlumency if you cannot even control your own anger?"

Harry's fists curled at his sides. He was shaking with hatred. How could Dumbledore expect him to study with a man who hated Sirius so much? A man who was probably overjoyed that the only parent Harry could even remember was dead?

Snape could see the hesitation in Harry. "Good, Potter. It looks like some of my lessons may have been penetrating through that thick skull of yours."

Harry couldn't get violent, but he had to defend Sirius's honor. If he didn't, he would never forgive himself. He couldn't let Snape walk all over him like this. He was too proud. "You will never be half the man that Sirius was," Harry spat.

Snape's eyes were cold. He raised one greasy eyebrow in Harry's direction. "Odd, considering that he was only half a man himself."

Harry's anger caught in his throat. He was boiling over. He had to leave – he had to get out of the dungeon. If he didn't, he would do something he would regret. He knew that Snape had taken it too far, and that in return, Harry wouldn't be able to control his actions. Harry took a step towards the door.

"I'm done," Harry whispered. "I'm leaving."

Snape sneered. "Quitting, Potter?"

"For today," Harry replied. He put his wand back inside of his robes and didn't look back as he stepped out of the dungeon door. He just couldn't tolerate another second of Snape's hatred without ripping the bastard apart with his bare hands.

The Indian summer had vanished from Hogwarts. The leaves began to change colors and fall from the trees, decorating the grounds in colorful beds of red, brown, and orange. Winter was on its way.

Classes seemed to be taking their toll on all of the students. Everyday, Harry was given more and more homework to complete. He barely had time to eat, let alone for Quidditch and Occlumency. He felt fried from all of his studying and was looking forward to the field trip on Halloween. It would be one night where he wouldn't have to worry about his homework or Snape seeing inside of his mind.

And when he wasn't studying, he was sleeping. But his slumber was littered with dreams of the amphitheater and Sirius's voice. He'd had the dream nearly every night. It was like he was stuck in a perpetual state of sub-consciousness. He had no clue who he was dancing with, but he didn't care. He was just trying to decipher his godfather's message.

It was Wednesday, and Harry was having a good day. The very first meeting of the year of Dumbledore's Army was set to take place in the Room of Requirement that night. And also, because it was Wednesday, it meant that Mr. Weasley was visiting their Muggle Studies class. He always had such interesting stories. Their entire class had embraced Mr. Weasley, and those who had viewed him as a crackpot, obsessed with Muggles, were now treating him with respect. Ron wasn't the slightest bit embarrassed to have his father in class.

"You know, mum always tells him he should write a book," Ron said as he and Harry walked down the first floor corridor. "She says it'd be a number one bestseller in no time."

"Well, Lockhart did it," Harry replied. "Your dad shouldn't have a hard time."

"Knowing Lockhart, he probably coerced somebody into writing it for him and then modified their memory after it was finished."

They were a few minutes early and the first to arrive in Muggle Studies. Professor Avis was sitting at her desk and Mr. Weasley was standing near the dry-erase board. He was drawing different colored lines on the board in no specific patter. "Oh, hello boys," Mr. Weasley greeted.

"Dad, what are you drawing?" Ron asked.

"Oh, we're going to talk a little bit about plumbing in today's lesson." He put the cap on his marker. "How's things?"

"Fine," Ron replied. "How's mum?"

"Good. She's about ready to strangle the twins, though," he added. "Zonko's finally agreed to drop the complaint, but now George and Fred want to give them an inquiry as well." He shook his head. "Those boys are too ambitious for their own good..."

"Arthur! Are you there?"

Suddenly, the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge, appeared in the classroom fireplace. Or rather, his head did.

"Fudge!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed and sprinted over to the fireplace. "Yes, I'm here. What's going on?"

"We've got a problem," Fudge replied. "I hate to interrupt your little talk, but this is an emergency. Henry Wilkensis at it again! This time, he opened up some sort of plant shop in London. It's called Henry's Herbs, over on Reynolds Boulevard. He opened it to the public – including Muggles."

"Oh dear." Mr. Weasley ran a hand through his thinning red hair. "That Henry is always stirring up trouble for me."

_Henry's Herbs_. Now why did that sound familiar to Harry?

"That's not the worst of it. He's got a Muggle working for him. He claims that he thought she was a squib because she didn't use magic, but she knew the names of several wizarding plants. He's just saying that because he's knows that he'll be facing an inquiry to shut him down after this. Anyway, somehow, she ended up battling against a clump of Devil's Snare. Things got out of hand. Arthur, it doesn't look good. You've got to get over there and do some damage control. I've already called in the Obliviators, but it looks like we'll have to deal directly with the Muggle's family."

"Oh dear. This isn't good. I'll be there right away, Fudge."

"Hurry, Arthur. There's no telling what will happen if some Muggle television station gets a hold of this. It could be a repeat of the Petrova incident all over again!"

"Yes sir," Mr. Weasley said. Fudge's head disappeared into the fire. "Is this hooked up to the Network?" he asked Professor Avis, gesturing to the fireplace.

She nodded. "Just re-installed last week." She handed him a bowl, which Harry assumed was Floo Powder. "That Umbridge had it removed last year."

"Just in time then." He turned to Ron and Harry. "Sorry to take off boys, but duty calls. I'll see you next week." With a nod and a handful of powder, he shouted, "Reynolds Boulevard, London!" and disappeared into the flames.

Harry and Ron settled into their normal seats in the classroom. The rest of the students were piling inside, wondering where Mr. Weasley was. "Too bad about that emergency," Ron said sadly. "Plumbing is one of dad's favorite subjects."

But Harry wasn't really paying attention. He had just recognized the name of the flower shop. Nora's sister had mentioned it in her letter. In fact, she was _working_ at the shop.

Harry had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Professor Avis began her lecture on using a telephone. How many Muggles did this Henry Wilkens have working in his plant store? What if the Muggle in trouble was Nora's sister? '_It doesn't look good,_' Fudge had said. Was she in real danger? Nora's sister appeared to be her entire life. If something happened to her, Nora would probably never smile again.

Suddenly, Harry knew what he had to do. Dumbledore had said that anytime he had something on his mind, he could come to him. Well, Harry definitely had something on his mind. And he was still feeling guilty for not writing his dream about Sirius down in the diary. It was time he did something right. He was going to go to Dumbledore and tell him the situation.

He was very thankful that he happened to have some of Fred and George's Nosebleed Nougat in the pocket of his robe. He took it out, laid the two candies on the table, and caught Ron's attention. Ron wouldn't understand why Harry would want to get out of Muggle Studies, the easiest class in their entire schedule, but he nodded to Harry in a silent agreement to take care of his books.

Harry took a deep breath, as it was hard to breathe when blood was gushing out of one's nose, and plopped one of the candies into his mouth.

Instantly, Harry felt a tickling sensation in his nose. Before he could sniff, blood came pouring out. He stood up from his desk, holding it. One of the Ravenclaw girls screamed when she saw the blood.

"Ah, Professor..." Harry began.

"Oh my goodness!" Professor Avis cried when she caught sight of him. "Harry, dear, you'd better get the Hospital Wing straight away. Oh dear, that looks terrible. That's the worst nosebleed I've ever seen!"

Harry didn't need telling twice. He turned around and hurried out of the Muggle Studies classroom. As soon as he was out of sight, he popped in the other candy, and immediately his nose dried out. The blood stopped gushing. He made a quick stop in a nearby loo and cleaned up as best he could, then sprinted to Dumbledore's office.

"Ton-Tongue Toffee!" he cried, praying that the password to his office was the same as it had been a few weeks ago. The huge stone gargoyle twisted to reveal the staircase. Harry took the stairs two-by-two until he reached Dumbledore's office door. He knocked loudly.

"Come in."

Harry burst through the door to find Nora sitting in the same chair he'd sat in so many times before. She was looking very frightened and very small.

"Harry, is something the matter?" Dumbledore asked.

Now Harry felt very foolish. How could he have been so stupid? Of course Dumbledore knew about the flower shop. Dumbledore knew _everything_. Fudge had probably talked to him right after sending Mr. Weasley out on the job.

He recognized this as his need to save people. He was ashamed. This was the very same behavior that got Sirius killed, and nearly all of his friends as well.

"What is it?" Dumbledore pressed.

More angry at himself than embarrassed, Harry looked down at the floor. "I... I just heard from about the flower shop. Mr. Weasley was in Muggle Studies when Fudge gave him the message."

"But how did you know...?" Nora began.

"I read the beginning of your letter," Harry replied. "That day in the Owlery." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, this isn't my place. It's private. I should have known... I shouldn't have come."

"No, it's okay," Nora said. "I'm glad you came."

"Please, Harry, have a seat." From somewhere, Dumbledore conjured up an extra chair next to Nora's. Harry sat down, his face flushed. "As I was saying, your sister has been transported to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries," Dumbledore said. "Her condition is unknown at the moment."

"Please, Professor, I have to see her," Nora begged. "If something happens to her..." Her voice trailed off. "I just have to see her."

Dumbledore nodded. "You will. I will have someone escort you by Portkey to St. Mungo's, where you will be permitted to spend the night at your sister's bedside, regardless of her condition." His eyes were dark. Harry wondered if Dumbledore was worried that she was dead.

"Can Harry escort me?" Nora asked suddenly.

Harry stared at her incredulously. "But... I can't... Seamus, he's your cousin, he should..."

"She won't see him," Nora spat. "Please Harry, come with me. I don't want to go alone. You're my only friend here."

"But I...I have _things_ going on tonight," Harry said, turning to Dumbledore. Tonight was the very first D.A. meeting. Harry couldn't' cancel it.

Dumbledore continued stroking his beard. "I can take care of those things," he replied. He sat up suddenly. "It's settled. Harry, you will escort Nora to St. Mungo's. Nora, please run back up to your dormitory and pack an overnight bag. Be quick about it."

"Yes sir," Nora replied. She stood up and rushed out of Dumbledore's office.

"I hope you won't mind?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, sir," Harry said. He had no reason to object except for the sneaking suspicion that an eleven-year-old had a crush on him. "Should I go pack a bag too?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, you will not be spending the night. After escorting Nora, Mr. Weasley will take you back to the Burrow where you will meet up with the rest of the Order to discuss your vision."

Harry was beginning to think that Dumbledore had planned this whole incident in the first place. "Our first D.A. meeting was supposed to be tonight."

"I'll alert Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. I'm sure they'll spread the word." His eyes twinkled with delight. "So, you have reconsidered your teaching position?"

Harry nodded. "I want them to be prepared more than anything."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, "everyone will need to prepare for what is to come."

Harry had the distinct impression that Dumbledore was trying to warn him about something – to bring something to attention. The two of them sat in silence until Nora returned.

She was breathless and had a bag strapped across her shoulders. "I'm ready," she declared.

Both Harry and Dumbledore stood up from their seats. He produced a sterling silver tennis bracelet from his desk drawer. "Once the two of you touch this bracelet, you will be transported by this special Portkey to St. Mungo's. Then, Nora, you are to wear this bracelet until noon tomorrow, when, no matter where you are or what you are doing, you will undo the clasp and be transported back here to my office." Dumbledore lifted the bracelet and held it out to the two of them. "Are you ready?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Nora took a step forward and grabbed one end of the chain. Harry took the other.

Instantly, he could feel the familiar tug behind his belly button. Dumbledore and his office itself became blurry, although Harry distinctly heard him say, "Wish Eva well for me." And for some reason, Harry thought the comment was directed towards him.

Who's Eva?


	15. Two Worlds Colliding

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

**Two Worlds Colliding**

Once they arrived at St. Mungo's, Harry fastened the bracelet around Nora's wrist for safe-keeping. He now noticed that her eyes were quite red and she kept wiping them on her sleeve, trying to catch her tears before they rolled down her cheeks.

"Where are we supposed to go?" Nora asked.

Harry glanced around the reception area. He had just assumed that the Portkey would have brought them directly to her sister's room, but it wasn't the case. Harry thought that was a bad sign. What if her sister was already dead? Harry had nearly been killed by Devil's Snare himself during his first year at Hogwarts. Was he supposed to watch over Nora if her sister was dead? Was he only there for moral support? Why had Dumbledore sent him here? Why didn't Seamus go?

"I'm not exactly sure where we're supposed to go," Harry replied.

"You mean that you're the most famous wizard in the world and you don't even know your way around this... this hospital?"

Harry tried to hide his grin. Nora didn't realize that he had lived a life very similar to hers before he came to Hogwarts. He still had little knowledge of the wizarding world. Plus, he'd only been to St. Mungo's once before to visit Mr. Weasley.

He searched the sign that said what ward was on what floor, but it didn't matter because he had no idea where a Muggle would be after battling against a nasty bough of Devil's Snare. "I think we'll have to ask the Welcome Witch." Harry gestured to a group of people who were lined up outside of what resembled a Muggle nurse station.

The two of them got in line and stood together in silence. Every once in a while he would hear a tiny sniffle from Nora beside him. She was still defiantly wiping away her tears. Harry's heart ached for her. She was trying so hard to keep herself together. Without realizing it, he slipped his arm around her shoulders for comfort. She didn't look up at him, for fear that her tears would spill over, but she did press in closer to him. So this is what it felt like to be a big brother.

It was finally their turn to speak with the Welcome Witch. "Can I Help you?" asked a blonde, slightly plump witch wearing robes of sky blue.

"Yes, we're looking for..." Harry began. What had Dumbledore said her name was?

"Eva," Nora chimed in. "Eva Finnigan."

The witch began searching through the papers in front of her, looking perplexed. "I'm sorry. I don't see anybody here by that name."

Nora looked as though she was going to start crying. She bit her lower lip. There had to be a mistake. Dumbledore wouldn't have sent them here if Eva wasn't here.

"She a Muggle," Harry suggested. He didn't know if that made any difference or not.

The Welcome Witch looked up at him. Harry wondered if she'd caught sight of his scar or something, but instead she pulled out a different file of parchment. Nora was too short to peer over the countertop, but Harry could see the bright red slip of paper with "Finnigan, Eva" written on it and three "M's" next to it.

"She's in the Muggle Memory Modification Ward," the witch said. "It's down the hall on the right."

Harry nodded and guided Nora in the direction the witch pointed. Tears were rolling down her cheeks now, and every once in a while she would choke back a sob. Harry wasn't sure what to do. She really did look like a little eleven-year-old girl now. He took her hand so she would know she was not alone.

But now Harry was very concerned about the state Nora's sister was in. He'd only seen memory modifications a few times. There was his old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart, who's own spell had backfired. He was in thelong-term ward of St. Mungo's and didn't remember a thing about his past. And when he'd gone to the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys, they stayed on a Muggle's campground who always greeted them with a "Merry Christmas" in the middle of July because his memory had been tampered with so many times.

It seemed to take ages for them to reach the Muggle Ward. Nora was grasping Harry's hand so tightly she was digging her nails into his flesh. "Here it is," Harry announced. "Everything's going to be all right, Nora," he added, although he wasn't sure why.

He slowly turned the knob and opened the door, expecting to see a wounded Muggle. But instead, there was a waiting room, which looked a lot like one in a Muggle hospital. In fact, all of the healers were wearing white lab coats, as though they were actual doctors.

Then Harry realized why it was called the Muggle Ward. Everything was set up exactly like a Muggle hospital. If a Muggle was brought there, they wouldn't know the difference.

Someone in a lab coat was sitting on one of the chairs in the makeshift waiting room. As Harry came closer, he realized it was Mr. Weasley. He stood up from his seat and rushed over to the two of them. However, Harry was relived to see that his face looked quite cheerful. He clapped Harry on the back. "Dumbledore told me you'd be escorting the young Miss Finnigan," he said. Then he took Nora by the arm and led them to a door, which Harry assumed her sister was behind. Mr. Weasley went down on one knee so that he was at Nora's eye level. "Your sister is very lucky, Nora. She somehow knew exactly how to deal with Devil's Snare, although she did end up with some minor burns and a few scratches."

And suddenly, Nora exploded into a crying fit. "It's my fault!" she cried. "I let Eva read my Herbology book before I went to Hogwarts." Harry realized she must have been feeling guilty this whole time.

In a very fatherly fashion, Mr. Weasley put two hands onto Nora's shoulders. "Don't be silly. You probably saved her life tonight. She knew what to do _because_ she read your Herbology book."

"You... you really think so?" she sputtered.

Mr. Weasley nodded. "I know so." He opened up the hospital door a crack. "Go on in. You can see her now."

Nora, with a forced smile on her face, shot past Mr. Weasley and ran into the room. He quietly closed the door and stood up. He gestured for Harry to have a seat on a nearby couch. Mr. Weasley plopped down next to him. "Fudge always assumes the worst when he calls me out to a Muggle catastrophe. Miss Finnigan was very capable of holding her own against that Devil's Snare. She managed to escape with the aid of a single lighter. Amazing devices, really," he added. "Although, some of her fingers were burned to a crisp, I'm afraid."

"What about her memory?" Harry asked. He assumed the Obliviators had already taken care of it.

"Well, the Ministry has isn't quite sure what to do with her yet."

"What do you mean?"

Mr. Weasley sighed. "Her sister is a witch, so she has already been exposed to the wizarding world. We could keep her memory in tact with this knowledge. It wouldn't be breaking any of the Ministry regulations about Muggles. The choice is ultimately up to Eva herself. She can decide if she wants to remember this incident or not. However, we could use her for some research at the Ministry."

"Research?" Harry questioned.

Mr. Weasley merely grinned. The door into the waiting room opened up again. Nora came out. "Harry, my sister wants to see you."

Harry glanced at Mr. Weasley, who was still smiling, and stood up. He followed Nora.

In the lone hospital bed lay Nora's sister, who looked strikingly like an older version of the first-year herself. Harry sucked in his breath when he saw her. She was quite beautiful. Her pale skin was decorated with tiny freckles. Her hair had the same curl as Nora's, except that it was a light shade of brown highlighted in hues of gold, though it was a tad frizzy from the nightmare she'd just gone through.

Harry had the strangest feeling of déjà vu as the girl propped herself up on her elbows. "Hullo," she said, her voice thick with an Irish accent.

"Hello," Harry replied. As he studied her face, Harry wondered how old she was. At first glance, she looked as though she could have passed for twenty. But when he looked closer, he realized that she was much younger. She looked so familiar.

"I just wanted to thank you for bringing Nora here. I know she can be quite a handful."

"Look who's talking," Nora giggled, sticking her tongue out at her sister. Playfully, Eva returned the gesture.

Something inside of Harry was screaming, "Look away! Look away!" But he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. He wasn't sure if it was because the feeling of déjà vu had returned or because he found her so attractive.

"I... I have to ask you," Harry said suddenly, "have we met before?"

Eva winced a little as she fully sat up in her bed. Nora reached behind her and propped up some pillows. She thought for a moment. "No, I don't think so." She held out her un-bandaged hand. "I'm Eva Finnigan."

"Harry Potter," he replied and shook it gently. There was something familiar about these hands. They were so warm. Inviting.

"Harry's famous," Nora announced.

"He is?" Eva asked. She began fussing with a string on her dressing gown. On of her hands was bandaged with lots of gauze. It must have been the hand that was badly burned.

Nora nodded. "One of the most famous wizards in the world," she continued.

Harry felt himself blushing. But as Eva continued to pull on the string on her gown, Harry _knew_ he had seen those hands quiver before.

"No! I know who you are!" Harry exclaimed. "You walked a dog in my neighborhood this summer."

"In Little Winging?" she questioned.

Harry nodded eagerly. He'd seen her hands pulling Piers Polkiss's dog. When he'd first seen her, he thought she was older, and now he realized that it was the same girl who sat before him.

"Oh! Wait! You're the one the Polkiss' warned me about if I bumped into you at night. You go to St. Brutus' Center for Incurably Criminal Boys..." Her voice trailed off as she raised an eyebrow in confusion. She glanced at Nora, feeling foolish. "You don't really go to St. Brutus's, do you?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I go to Hogwarts."

"Oh no," Eva said. "Now I feel terrible. When you came into the flower shop in Surrey with your aunt, I thought for sure you were going to steal something." Embarrassed, she covered her sparkling brown eyes with her hand. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"That was you too?" Harry said it more like a statement than a question. She had looked familiar that day at the florist, as well.

"That's me," Eva replied. "Dog walker and florist extraordinaire."

Harry laughed. "But what were you doing working in London, then?"

Eva's smile faded. She glanced over at Nora, who was studying some medical supplies on a nearby countertop. "Well, London pays better than Surrey," she said quietly. "And with Nora off at school, I can work more." She looked down at her hands. "I still miss her like crazy."

Harry suddenly realized that Eva must have been the only other person in the world for her. Come to think of it, Nora had never mentioned a mother or a father. Was it really just the two of them?

"I heard that," Nora said. She looked to her older sister and frowned. "It's not my fault you're only a Muggle. If you were a witch like me, you could be at Hogwarts right now."

"I know," Eva said sadly. "But everything will turn out okay." She turned to Harry. "Sometimes I still can't believe what she's saying. Getting her letters from owls, sending her money that's worthless unless she exchanges it into gold. I feel like I'm trapped between two different worlds."

And suddenly, Mrs. Figg's voice rang through Harry's head. He, too, was trapped between two worlds: boyhood and manhood.

"I know how you feel."

And as Harry stared into her eyes, he found comfort in them. She knew it was like to be alone. So utterly alone that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't smile.

"Excuse me," Mr. Weasley interrupted, poking his head in the room. "Nora, Harry, would you mind if I talked to Eva alone for a moment?"

No one objected. The two of them stepped out into the waiting room. Nora turned to Harry, excited. "So what did you think of her?"

"Of Eva?"

Nora nodded. "She's the greatest. I didn't realize how much I really missed her until I saw her. So?"

"So..." Harry began. "She seems very nice."

"Nice?" She glared at him. "Is that the best you can do? Eva is beyond nice. And she's so strong. A lot stronger than I am."

Harry had to agree. In all honesty, he didn't really know what to think of Eva. He was impressed by her. She'd been so easy to talk to. He should have felt like an outsider in that hospital room, but he felt comfortable. He felt welcomed.

"And she's pretty too," Nora continued with a wink.

Harry privately agreed. "How long has it been just the two of you?"

Nora's smile faded from her eyes. "Too long." She turned her back to him. 'I wish there was some kind of spell I could cast that would turn her into a witch. I would do anything to have her with me at Hogwarts."

But the fact remained that a wand could not be thrown into someone's hand and they would become a wizard. Wizards were born, not made.

_Too bad_, Harry thought. He was beginning to warm up to the idea of having Eva around.

Mr. Weasley came back out into the waiting room. "You can go back inside, Nora," he said. "A healer will be arriving any minute to set up a cot in there for you to sleep on for the night. I trust Dumbledore has given you instructions on how to get back to Hogwarts?" She nodded. "Excellent. Well, tell your sister I wish her a speedy recovery and I'll be checking back with her soon. Come along, Harry."

Harry waved goodbye to Nora, regretting that he didn't get to say anything to Eva. He followed Mr. Weasley out of the Muggle ward and down the hallway, back into the magical portion of St. Mungo's.

"Did she decide to keep her memory?" Harry asked. He was afraid of the answer. That meant that Eva wouldn't remember meeting him at all.

"Oh, now Harry, I can't tell you anything about that. It would be breaking the Ministry-to-Muggle Confidentiality Clause. However," he added with a twinkle in his eye, "I can say that I've just hired a new researcher in the Muggle Relations department."

Harry frowned. He had the mental picture of Eva hooked up to all sorts of wizarding devices and being pumped for information in a dark room. 'You're not doing research on _her_, are you?"

"No, no, no," Mr. Weasley replied quietly. "She's doing research for us."

Harry didn't quite understand, but he didn't press the subject. "Where are we going now?"

"I've got to go back to the Ministry and file a quick report with Fudge. Then we'll head home for some supper." Again, Harry felt a little odd when Mr. Weasley said "home" instead of the Burrow. "I imagine we'll have quite a full house tonight," he said with a wink.

When Harry and Mr. Weasley finally did arrive at the Burrow, dinner was already on the table and there were a dozen people gathered around it. Harry suspected the table had been bewitched, because it looked much bigger than usual.

"Harry, dear!" Mrs. Weasley greeted. "It's so good to see you! Come in and have a seat. You must be starving." She ushered Harry in the door and took Mr. Weasley's coat after greeting him with a kiss.

He was a little intimidated by most of the Order sitting in the Weasley's kitchen. Remus was there, and he stood up and gestured for Harry to take the empty seat next to him. "Good to see you, Harry," he said, giving him a hug. "Just got your letter the other day. I'm sorry about Quidditch."

Harry sat down. Somehow, his heart felt much lighter than usual. His feelings of envy towards Ron making captain seemed like they had taken place ages ago. He grinned at Remus. "It's all right."

"You're in a good mood, boy," Mad-Eye Moody growled from the opposite side of the table.

Harry felt his cheeks flush, but his smile remained. After helping Mrs. Weasley bring out the rest of the dinner, Mr. Weasley took a seat next to his wife at the head of the table. "I believe we're all here," he announced. "Let's eat!"

But as Harry glanced around the table, he couldn't help but notice that a few people were missing. Dedalus Diggle was there, as well as Elphias Dodge, the crook Mundungus Fletcher, and Hestia Jones. Snape wasn't there, nor Dumbledore or McGonagall, which didn't surprise Harry. However, one very important person was missing.

"Where's Tonks?" he asked casually.

Remus choked on the chicken he was eating. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry glanced around at the rest of the Order at the table. "Mr. Weasley said everybody was here. But Tonks isn't. Where's she?"

"Harry, are you saying you haven't recognized her yet?"

"Recognized her?" Harry questioned.

Remus shook his head. "I should've known. Harry, she's your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."


	16. An Illusion Revealed

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

**An Illusion Revealed**

Harry dropped his fork. It clattered on the porcelain plate. All along Tonks had been in disguise as Professor Leurre? Harry had almost forgotten she was a Metamorphmagus.

"But then... that means..." His voice trailed off.

That meant that Tonks, not some McGonagall look-alike, had Remus's Moon Guide before Harry. Had she and Remus been an item before? Was she that woman he was so bitter about?

Come to think of it, this past summer Tonks had been very angry with Remus. Perhaps there was more to the story than he realized.

"That means she's been holding out on you," Remus replied. "She's probably been having a good laugh these past couple months." But somehow, Harry didn't find that in her nature.

"How's her lessons coming?" Moody questioned. "She'd better be talking about constant vigilance. I tell you, there's no better lesson than that."

Harry tried to hide his grin by wiping his mouth with his napkin. "We just started learning about ancient magic." He went back to his dinner, trying to recall what he'd learned earlier. "That reminds me, have any of you heard of a group of freed house-elves in London?" he asked casually.

This time, it was Remus who stopped eating. "Where did you hear that?"

Harry realized that every single pair of eyes at the table was staring at him. Apparently, this was classified information. Now he was going to get Dobby in trouble. "Er, well, Dobby happened to mention to me what he did over his summer vacation."

"I'm going to split that house-elf's ears off!" Mundungus Fletcher cried from the other end of the table. "I knew he couldn't keep his mouth shut."

"Oh, but it's not like that," Harry interrupted. "Dobby and I... we're friends."

"You forget that Harry was the one who freed him, Dung. Indirectly, of course," Mr. Weasley said. "That house-elf knows what's at stake."

"What is at stake?" Harry questioned.

No one answered.

Once everyone was through eating and the empty dishes were cleared, the Order returned to the table. Harry felt like he was under a great amount of scrutiny. He wasn't quite sure what they expected of him.

"Harry, do you know why we've called this meeting with you?" Remus asked.

Harry nodded. "Because of the vision."

"And there are a few other things that we need to discuss with you." Remus looked slightly uncomfortable. He looked like someone was forcing him into something he didn't want to do. "The first order of business has to do with your actions at the Ministry the night when... when Sirius died."

Confused, Harry turned to look at the other members. They, too, wouldn't meet him in the eye.

"I know I am in absolutely no position to lecture you," he mumbled. "However, we feel – I feel – that we should talk about what happened after he died. Do you remember?"

Now it was Harry who wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. What a stupid question. He had been trying so hard to forget that night, but he'd relived it over and over so many times in his mind that he knew he could never simply not remember.

His insides still churned when he thought of Bellatrix. Her icy laugh, her mocking voice.

"Yes, I remember," he replied coldly.

"Do you remember what you did right after? Right after Sirius had... Had slipped into the veil?"

"Slipped?!" Harry cried. "You know that Bellatrix..."

"When you chased her out into the atrium, do you recall what you did?"

"Yes, of course I do," he snapped. "I wanted her to suffer. I wanted her dead. I pointed my wand at her and..."

And now he realized what this whole lecture was about. He'd used one of the unforgivable curses. _Unforgivable_. Dumbledore had said that anyone caught using Dark Magic would be suspended immediately and taken away to the authorities

"I'm not going to be expelled and thrown in Azkaban, am I?" he demanded angrily.

Remus seemed to take his anger as a good sign. "No, no, of course not. It's just, well, it's our duty to warn you – to tell you. Harry, this is very important. I need you to understand this. We," he gestured around the table, "need to make sure that you understand."

"Understand what?"

"Under no circumstances can you ever, _ever_ use dark magic." Remus turned to him, his dark eyes looking as fierce as Harry had ever seen them. "No matter who is killed, who is suffering. You cannot use an Unforgivable Curse against _anyone_ in battle."

"It brings you down to their level," Mad-Eye spoke up. "Dark Magic is what we are fighting against. It is not a tool at our disposal. We do not use it for offensive purposes. Ever."

"Do you understand, Harry?"

Ashamed, Harry sunk lower into his seat. His face was burning. He could feel everyone staring at him. He had to show them that he grasped what they were saying. "I understand," he replied. "I get it. No Dark Magic. Ever," he added.

He had to admit that it had been a moment of weakness on his part. However, there was no doubt in his mind that if he had to relive that horrible night over again, he would do the same thing. There was such a rage inside of him – such utter _hatred_ – that he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back.

But if there was one thing Harry had to learn this year, besides all of his studies as a student at Hogwarts, it was to control his emotions.

_Besides,_ he thought bitterly, _it didn't work_.

"It didn't work then, boy," Mad-Eye said suddenly. "But that doesn't mean it never will."

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Now that we've got that out of the way, we'd like to discuss your dreams."

Harry should have been grateful for the change of subject, but the knots in his stomach only continued to grow. "Right... Well, they're not all dreams. I mean, I can tell when it's a dream – just a regular dream." He paused. "And I can tell when I'm looking through Voldemort's eyes." No one flinched at the Dark Lord's name. "Of course, it's not until it's too late. He knows when I'm there. I don't even realize that I'm him – I mean, that I'm looking through his eyes – until my scar starts hurting."

He knew that this was old news to them. He'd written about the distinguishing the difference between a vision and dream in the diary. However, they nodded as though it was the first time they'd heard it.

"And there were those times last year when I had visions even when I wasn't asleep," Harry added. "But I haven't had any of those in a long time."

The Order still sat in silence, as if mulling over what Harry had just said. He was feeling guilty because he hadn't written down the dream about Sirius. He continued speaking in spite of himself; the silence was too much. "And the only vision I've had since... since that night... was of Bellatrix." He hated saying her name. He hated the way it rolled off his tongue, the way it lingered in the air like the stench of something dead that had already been removed.

"You needn't worry about that," Remus said finally. "The information you provided us with was right on target. It has been taken care of."

Harry didn't press the details, for he knew he would get none.

However, he knew that she would get out. She would be free again. Azkaban was no obstacle for Voldemort. Especially if his heart burned for her the way Harry remembered.

He hoped it wasn't a trap.

It was after midnight when Harry finally made it back to the common room after his meeting with the Order. Ron and Hermione were asleep together on a couch in front of the fireplace. Ron had his arm around Hermione's shoulders, and her head was snuggled against his chest. There was a blanket in their laps, but Harry doubted that Ron had any trouble keeping her warm.

Harry grinned and cleared his throat. "I'm back."

Ron both awoke with a start. Once he saw what position they were in, and he quickly pulled his arm away, smacking Hermione in the back of the head. "Ouch!" she cried groggily. Ron tried to get up on his feet, but his legs were twisted on the blanket and he fell flat on his back on the floor.

Both Harry and Hermione burst out laughing. Ron quickly recovered and stood up. "And where have _you _been?" he demanded, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

"Didn't Dumbledore tell you?" Harry questioned.

Hermione shook her head. "He only told us that we had to cancel any sort of plans we had for tonight because you were gone. Gone where?"

If Dumbledore hadn't told them, then perhaps Harry wasn't either. But Ron and Hermione were the two people who he trusted the most in the world. He had learned long ago that he couldn't hide things from them. Maybe Dumbledore just thought it would be Harry's place to tell them.

"I was at the Burrow."

"What? Why?" Ron asked. "How did you end up there?"

"It's a long story." Harry ran a hand through his unruly dark hair. "When your dad had that Muggle emergency today, well, I sort of knew who the Muggle was."

Hermione and Ron exchanged confused glances.

"She's Nora's sister," he explained. "And I wasn't sure if Dumbledore knew. So I got out of class and went straight to Dumbledore's office. Of course, Nora was already there. She was going to go to St. Mungo's to see her sister and she needed an escort. Dumbledore said that I would bring to St. Mungo's, meet up with your dad, and then I'd go to the Burrow to meet with the Order."

"Oh, so that's what this is about," Hermione replied. "To talk about your dreams?"

"Visions," Harry corrected her. "And the only one I've had was about Bellatrix. They said that they've taken care of it."

"How?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "That's all they'd tell me. But I did learn something very interesting. I think that Professor Leurre and Remus _were_ a couple and that she did have the Moon Guide at one time."

"Poor Remus," Ron muttered.

"Not exactly," Harry replied. "Because Professor Leurre isn't who we think she is."

Ron just looked more confused, but Hermione suddenly jumped out of her seat. "Something's been bothering me about her name. If I remember correctly, _Leurre_ means illusion in French."

"It fits. Professor Leurre is an illusion." Both of them were staring at Harry as though he'd lost his mind. He grinned broadly. "Don't you see? She's Tonks!"

Hermione pounded her fist into her opposite hand. "Of course! Professor Leurre is always knocking things over. She's a tad clumsy, just like Tonks!"

"But why has she tried to disguise herself as McGonagall?" Ron asked.

"I'm not sure. But you realize what this means?" He didn't want for anyone to answer him. "Tonks and Remus had a... a _thing_. A relationship."

"Ooh," Hermione cooed. "That's so sweet. And a little unconventional. I wonder what happened between them? I suppose it's not any of our business."

"We should ask," Ron suggested.

Hermione smacked him on the shoulder. "That's incredibly rude. It's their private affair."

"And Tonks doesn't know that we know who she is yet," Harry said.

"We should tell her," Hermione said. "It'd be the right thing to do."

"If you ask me," Ron said, "it would have been the right thing for _her_ to tell _us_."

The next day Harry stumbled mindlessly through his classes. He was so worn out that he didn't think he'd dreamt at all for the few hours' sleep he'd had the morning before. He had taken a quick nap after his afternoon class but woke up hours later after dinner had already started.

Groggy and yawning, he made his way to the Great Hall. By the time he got there, most of his friends were already done eating. He settled down at edge of the table and stared at his own reflection in his minestrone soup.

"Hi Harry!"

Harry felt someone sit down on the bench next to him. He turned to find Nora, looking happier than usual, at his side. "Are you okay?" she asked. "You don't look so good."

He smiled sheepishly. "I'm okay."

"Well, I hope that this will cheer you up!" she exclaimed, then handed him a folded piece of parchment. His name was written neatly on the outside. "It's from Eva."

Harry felt a flutter somewhere in the region of his heart. "She wrote me a letter?"

Nora nodded. "I think it's a thank you. And she said that I should thank you again too. So, thanks," she added. "You know, you should write back to Eva. She's lonely all the time. She doesn't have any friends her age."

That seemed to be a trend in her family. "What about you?" Harry asked, hiding a yawn with his hand. "You know Nora, you should branch out a little too. I only see you around with your cat. You should get some friends your own age."

"But I like the friends I have now." Nora frowned. "You don't want to be friends anymore?"

"Of course I still want to be friends," Harry replied. "I just think that you might have more fun with people your own age. You'll have the same interests and..."

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Harry Potter the Cradle Robber."

Draco Malfoy slithered over to the Gryffindor table, his face set in his familiar smirk. His pale hair was slicked back, his gray eyes sparkling. "Got a first-year for a girlfriend, Potter?"

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry spat. Besides him, Nora sucked in her breath. Harry supposed that he could be a little intimidating to a first-year.

"Heard you didn't make captain," Malfoy replied. "I hope my mother's complaint to Dumbledore didn't have anything to do with it. Don't want them bending the rules for you _again_, Potter."

"Now you're having your mother fight your battles for you?" Harry retorted.

He sneered. "At least I've got one."

Harry locked his jaw. He knew that if he opened his mouth the fifth that would have come out of it would have offended the girl next to him. Honestly, he would have wanted nothing more than to jump out of his seat and tackle Malfoy. But he had to control himself. He had to feel nothing. He had to be numb. He couldn't say anything.

Malfoy seemed surprise at his sudden self-control. "See you around, Potter."

Harry took a deep breath and went back his soup. "That bastard," he muttered. "Sorry," he apologized, turning to Nora. She was sitting in her seat, her face pale. As he studied her closer, Harry realized that she was shaking. "Nora, are you all right?" She wouldn't look at him. She was staring down at the table top. "I'm sorry about what I said. It's okay if you don't have friends your own age."

She turned to him, staring deep into his eyes. "Are you my friend, Harry?"

"Of course," he replied. Where was she going with this? And why did she look so frightened all of a sudden?

"And friends do things for each other. They protect each other, right?"

"Right," he answered, confused. He knew that if it weren't for his friends, Harry wouldn't be alive.

"So you'll protect me?"

"What's this all about?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Will you protect me?"

"Yes," he said finally. But he didn't understand why she needed protecting in the first place. But as Harry thought about it, he knew that his relationship with Nora had changed from their excursion to St. Mungo's. He felt very protective towards her – though maybe it was because when he looked into her eyes he saw her sister. He felt like an older brother more than a friend. He imagined that Ron had the same feelings about Ginny.

"I've got to go," Nora announced, standing up. "Read the letter. And write back!" Looking slightly more back to normal, she turned around and left the Great Hall.

Harry sighed and stared at the letter in his hands. He pushed away his soup, having lost his appetite, and opened the parchment up.

_Dear Harry,_

_I can't thank you enough for looking over Nora. Knowing that you're at Hogwarts makes me feel better about her going to school there. You have so much patience. You were warm and kind – a true gentleman. I wish there was some way for me to repay you. If you ever need a favor from a Muggle, don't hesitate to ask._

_Thanks again,_

_Eva Finnigan_

_P.S. I hope to see you again sometime._

Harry's smile stretched from ear to ear. He was glad that none of his friends were around to see him. He tucked the letter away in his robes, but his mind was still reading it.

She said he was a gentleman. That he was kind. He was warm. She wanted to see him again.

He suddenly felt more awake than he'd felt all day. He had his appetite back and dug into his soup until there wasn't a drop in the bowl. After he finished eating, he pulled the letter back out to make sure it was still there.

Warm. Kind. A gentleman.

Why did these words have such an effect on him?

No girl had ever really complimented him before – at least not in writing. So many were just enamored by his fame. As for Cho Chang, he didn't understand her at all. Now it appeared that she'd only seen him as a conquest. As though she wanted to try him out like a new broom.

But Eva didn't know about his fame. She didn't know that he had a vault full of gold in Gringotts, or that he was the best seeker in a century on the Gryffindor house team. She didn't care that he had Remedial Potions twice a week or that he'd gotten a poor grade in Divination.

She was removed from it all. And that appealed to Harry.

But how was he ever going to see her again if she was a Muggle?


	17. Hermione the Vegan

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

**Hermione the Vegan**

With a song in his heart and Eva's letter in his pocket, Harry made his way down to the dungeon for his last Occlumency lesson of the week. He didn't bother to knock on Snape's door, because he was always waiting for him inside. It didn't matter if he was fifteen minutes early; Snape always accused him of tardiness.

"You're late..." he began as Harry opened the door. However, he looked a little unnerved at Harry's appearance. "My, my, you're in a good mood."

Harry shrugged. He wasn't about to tell Snape anything. He concentrated on not meeting his eyes. He supposed that it was a great turnaround from before. He felt wonderful. Snape couldn't say anything or do anything to ruin how he felt. He couldn't take that letter away from Harry.

"Let's begin." The two of them assumed the position. Both removed their wands and held them in the air. "_Legilimens!_" Snape cried.

Harry's good mood had left him unprepared. It was hard for him to clear his mind so quickly. He mumbled a spell back, but even he was not sure what it was. He glanced at Snape, trying to avoid his eyes, but somehow he was drawn to them.

Suddenly, he could see her clearly. She was walking the dog on Privet Drive, stumbling as she tried to control the massive mutt. Then at the flower shop in Surrey, where she watched him with narrowing eyes. And there had been somewhere else...

And it hit him. He was on his knees on the cold dungeon floor. But there wasn't much pain, just a nagging feeling in his mind. As though he were fighting the Imperius Curse.

As he got to his feet, Snape stared at him with suspicious eyes. "Again," he said quietly. And this time, he gave Harry a moment to recover. But every time he tried to think of nothing, to be numb, to be blank, there were still butterflies in his stomach.

"_Legilimens!_"

He just couldn't get her out of his mind. Where else did he recognize her from? There was somewhere else. Perhaps a dream?

And then he remembered. She was at King's Cross Station, running at the wall to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. They'd bumped into each other. She had been there as well. And the image of her, smiling at him in the hospital bed, wouldn't leave him.

"Potter, this is ridiculous!" Snape cried. "Are you even going to _try_ tonight?"

It took Harry a moment to realize that he was on his knees. He quickly stood up.

"You're wasting my time," he snarled.

"Sorry, sir," Harry replied quickly. But he wasn't.

A mischievous smile played upon Snape's lips, but it faded when Harry glanced over at him. When Harry met his eyes, he felt a jolt in his scar. "Potter, have you got a... a crush?" he asked quietly. He looked positively revolted.

Harry couldn't believe that he'd just heard Snape say that word, let alone how embarrassed he was. "No," he replied immediately. "And it's not fair that I don't get to use of a Pensieve as well." If he could empty his memories of Eva into the magical device, he would be spared the pain of Snape's wrath.

"If the Dark Lord possesses you, there will be no Pensieve."

"I don't care if _he_ sees her," Harry spat. His only concern was that he didn't want to be ridiculed by Snape. What if Snape told his whole house? If Malfoy found out, he would really never hear the end of it.

"You should," Snape said gravely. "If you care about her at all, you would. She is a Muggle, is she not?"

Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach. That seemed to be a problem lately.

"The Dark Lord takes pleasure in killing Muggles," he continued, not waiting for Harry's reply. "And I am positive that he would take great pleasure in killing the Muggle that means the most to you."

Harry's mood had seriously deteriorated. Was everyone he met in danger? He had to learn to block Voldemort. If he didn't master Occlumency, no one would be safe. He hadn't truly been taking the art seriously. Now he had no choice. He would not let Voldemort win.

"Again," Harry said. "Do it again."

"Do you think she'll like it?" Ron questioned, thrusting a jewelry box into Harry's hands. "Fred and George's joke shop is right next to a jewelry store that sells Icelandic silver at half price. When I saw it last summer, I don't know, I just, I thought of her. I thought she would like it. The heart is girly. Not that Hermione is a girly-girl, really. It's just that..."

"Whoa! Slow down," Harry laughed, interrupting him. He opened the box. Inside was a silver chain with a small heart-shaped locket. It sparkled in the dim light of the boys' dormitory. "It's beautiful, Ron. I'm sure she'll love it."

"Gin thought it was great too," he said, but he still looked unconvinced. "See, there was one exactly like it, but the locket was just a small circle. It was sort of plain, but maybe I should have bought that one instead. I mean, at first I thought I shouldn't get the heart, because that would give her the wrong impression. But then I realized that this was the impression I wanted to give her, so I bought it anyway. But now I'm beginning to have some doubts. Maybe I should just give her some of my Skiving Snackboxes instead..."

Harry smacked Ron on the back. "Take a deep breath, Ron. It's all going to be okay. Hermione will love the necklace. It's not too girly, and it's not too, er..." he couldn't think of the word, "lovey-dovey. It's just right."

Ron exhaled deeply. "You really think so?"

"I do," Harry replied. In fact, he was beginning to question the gift he got Hermione for her birthday. It wasn't anything nearly as extravagant as a locket. Although, considering that he wasn't in love with Hermione, that was probably a good thing. On their first trip to Hogsmeade, he found an inkwell that had the outline of a cat etched into it.

If there was only one thing he was sure of, it was that he didn't know how to shop for girls.

There was a knock on the dormitory door. "Are you ready yet?" Ginny called. Harry handed the jewelry box back to Ron, grabbed his own wrapped gift, and opened the door. Ginny was standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest.

"I still don't understand why you two are doing this," she said.

"Because we've never given Hermione a proper birthday," Ron replied.

"And because your brother is looking for the perfect time to announce his undying love for her," Harry muttered under his breath. When Ron had suggested that he and Harry should buy belated birthday gifts for Hermione, Harry thought that it was an excellent gesture of friendship. Hermione had always refused any sort of party or gifts. And Harry and Ron, being the boys they were, had never given it a second thought. Now, come to find out, Ron had some serious ulterior motives.

"Let's get this over with," Ron said, stomping past the two of them. "I'm going to make sure it's a belated birthday she'll never forget." He took a deep breath and marched down the stairs to the common room.

"You'd think he was proposing or something," Ginny laughed.

"I think there's no difference in his mind." Harry frowned. "If Hermione says she's not interested..."

"Which she won't."

"Ron will be crushed," Harry continued. _Honestly, _he thought, _Charlie and Remus were right. Women. Who needs them?_ But he couldn't help thinking that the world would be an even darker place if it weren't for girls like Eva.

Harry and Ginny headed down the stairs into the common room, where Hermione had her nose buried in her Arithmacy book. Ron looked as though he was reconsidering even speaking to Hermione, but Harry quickly motioned for him to continue. Ron shook his head.

"That spineless git," Ginny muttered. "Go and help him, Harry. He'll never go through with it alone."

"Me?" Harry questioned. "You go help him. He's your brother."

"He's _your_ best friend," she retorted, and shoved him towards Ron. "Just go give Hermione your gift, and then he'll have to give her his."

"Fine," Harry replied. "Ron owes me for this one. Big time." He scowled and walked swiftly over to the table where Hermione was, his gift at his side. Ron watched with wide eyes. He looked as though he was going to try and stop Harry, but it was too late. "Happy birthday, Hermione," Harry said and handed her the wrapped box. "Sorry, it's a little late."

She glanced up from her book, surprised. A little late was an understatement. She'd turned sixteen over two weeks ago. "My birthday? But... you got me a gift!" She took the box from him. "You didn't have to get me anything, really."

"It's about time I did," Harry replied genuinely. "You've been buying gifts for me all these years. I hope you like it."

Hermione smiled up at him. She carefully opened the paper edges around the box, not tearing any of the red wrapping paper. She gently pulled the box out and opened it up. Clearly, Hermione was not the type to hastily rip into any gift.

"Wow, thanks Harry. I love it!" She put the inkwell down in the center of the table. "It looks a little like Crookshanks."

"You're welcome," Harry replied. When Hermione wasn't looking, he gestured for Ron to come over to the table with his gift. He took a step back, like he was heading back to the dorm. Ginny quickly came to the rescue and ushered him over to the desk where Hermione sat.

Ron looked as though he'd swallowed a porcupine. Ginny encouraged him to give his gift to her, but he whispered, "I think I should go upstairs and wrap it."

Ginny scowled. "It will be her _seventeenth_ birthday by the time you get enough courage to give it to her!" she hissed. "C'mon, Ron."

"What are you two talking about?" Hermione asked. She pulled her bushy brown hair back into a ponytail. Ginny tried to push Ron forward again, but he wouldn't budge. His face was ghostly white. He wouldn't speak.

"Um, we are... we were..." Ginny stalled. "We were just discussing if you were sweet sixteen and never been kissed," she finished.

This had the opposite effect on Ron. His face turned red. "No, we weren't," he replied quickly.

Hermione was also blushing. Harry's curiosity got the better of him. Had Ron and Hermione kissed before and he didn't know it? "C'mon Hermione, are you?"

"Of course she is!" Ron barked. His voice cracked.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Oh really?"

Ron gulped. "Well, I mean, I've never... I just assumed..."

"Look, Ron, just because _you're_ sweet sixteen and never been kissed doesn't mean that I am."

Ron's face returned to its shade of pale. He gulped. "I didn't mean that, Hermione..."

"Just because you're not attracted to me doesn't mean that no boy alive isn't!" she cried. "Honestly! I had my first kiss when I was fourteen!"

There was dead silence in the common room. He glanced from Hermione, to Ron, to Ginny. Ginny was chewing on her lower lip and seemed to be concentrating on the floor. Ron looked as though he were going to be sick. "You... you kissed Krum?" he whispered.

"A woman does not kiss and tell," Hermione replied. "But, yes, if you must know, Viktor did kiss me." She was looking triumphant, but if she really knew what she'd just done to Ron, she wouldn't look nearly as happy.

Harry thought he could hear Ron's heart breaking inside of his chest. Substantially deflated and all together nastily, he threw the jewelry box onto Hermione's table. It landed with a hard thud. "Happy birthday, Hermione," he whispered, then turned around and stalked back up to the boy's dormitory.

"What's this?" Hermione asked. "And what's with him?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Ginny plopped down on an empty chair at Hermione's table.

She looked confused. "No, it's not. What are you talking about?"

"Just open the box," Harry said.

Hermione shrugged and picked up the jewelry box that Ron had thrown on the table. She opened it up and gasped. "Oh my god!" she cried. "It's beautiful. Why did he...?" But then the realization suddenly dawned on her. "Oh no. Oh no. Please tell me that I did not just brag about snogging with Viktor during fourth year in front of him?"

"I think he left some pieces of his broken heart where he was standing," Ginny replied, "but they might be crushed too small to see."

Hermione held her head in her hands. "I didn't mean to hurt him. I just... I thought he was making fun of me. I can never tell with him. Ooh! He makes me so mad!" She coiled her hands into fists. "Sometimes I just want to slug him as hard as I can, and sometimes I just want to kiss him so he'll shut up."

"That's too much information," Ginny replied. "Maybe... Maybe somebody should go talk to him." She turned to Harry.

"Oh no way," Harry said. "This is already uncomfortable enough for me, thank you very much."

"No, I'll do it," Hermione declared. "This has gone on long enough."

Harry couldn't agree more. However, he was impressed with Hermione's bravery. He admired how Gryffindor she was as she stood up from the table, grabbed the locket, and marched up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

Ginny followed her. Harry quickly caught up to Ginny and grabbed her by the wrist. "Where are you going?"

"To listen, of course," she replied.

"We shouldn't..." Harry began, but he was interrupted by Hermione's shouting.

"Ronald Weasley, you get out here this minute!"

Harry tried not to laugh. He could only imagine Ron's embarrassment. He tugged on Ginny's arm. "We should go."

"Shh!" she hissed. "I want to hear!" But Harry pulled her away from the stairwell.

"It's none of our business," Harry said. "Let them work it out."

Ginny pouted, sticking her tongue out at him. "You're no fun anymore."

Ron didn't come to bed that night until after midnight. Harry asked Ron what had happened when he and Hermione had gone for a walk around the grounds, but all he told Harry was, "She said she has to think about it." Harry thought that explanation sounded a bit like a rejection. He couldn't understand why Hermione wouldn't want to be with Ron. What was to think about?

Mastering Occlumency would be a piece of cake compared to mastering women.

However, that morning the two of his best friends were acting oddly normal and Hermione did have the silver locket draped around her neck. The Great Hall was bustling with activity, but Harry felt immune to it all. He was distracted by slip of parchment in his back pocket, which he carried around with him like a silly security blanket. Honestly, had he completely lost his mind?

"I can't take this anymore," Hermione announced suddenly. "I've decided I'm going to be a vegan." She pushed away her plate of eggs and sausage and helped herself to some plain toast.

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"A vegan is a like a vegetarian," she replied. "Except that besides not eating meat, I also don't eat any kind of eggs or dairy products."

"So what exactly can you eat?" Harry questioned.

She shrugged. "Lots of things. Bread. Nuts."

"You sound nutters to me," Ron muttered.

"You're the crazy one!" Hermione cried. "Do you even know what you're shoving into your mouth?"

"It's just pig," Ron replied. "I know what pork is, Hermione." He gestured to his plate.

"But do you know what they did to it?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, Hermione, what did they do to it?"

Hermione waited until all eyes were upon her when she answered. "They castrated it."

Harry winced. Ron looked confused. "Castrated it? What does that mean? Is that some kind of rotisserie flavoring?"

Harry would have laughed if he wasn't experiencing sympathy pains for the poor beast. He put down his fork. He'd quickly lost his appetite.

Hermione merely grinned. "I guess you could say that."

Ron turned to Harry, still perplexed. "What does castrate mean?"

Harry suppressed a grin. "I'll tell you when you're older." Ron frowned. "But I'll tell you one thing, if there was a spell for it, I'd do it to Malfoy in a heartbeat."

"What d'you want to do to Malfoy?" Ginny questioned, taking the empty seat next to Hermione.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "So I was thinking, when we go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, we ought to have a small D.A. get together, just so we know who's with us and who's not."

"Let's not meet at the Hog's Head again," Ron moaned. The bartender gives me the willies. How about the Three Broomsticks?"

"That may not be safe," Hermione said.

"I don't think security is an issue," Harry announced. "I mean, it's not like last year."

"True," Ginny said. "We could just get together and have a cuppa."

"But when are we going to get down to business, Harry?" Hermione demanded. "We've wasted nearly three months already."

He was well aware of that, but he wasn't ready yet. He wanted to study up a bit more. "Soon," he replied. "I promise."

This seemed to satisfy Hermione. "Gin and I will go spread the word. How does one o'clock sound?"

"Fine," Harry replied. The two girls stood up from the table and nonchalantly made their way to the far corners of the Great Hall.

Ron sighed. "I guess I'd better start studying. Herbology chapter's a killer this week."

"Wait," Harry said, stopping him from standing up. "What happened with you and Hermione?"

"Oh... right Well, we sort of got everything out in the open. We came to an understanding."

"An understanding?"

Ron's cheeks were turning red, but Harry urged him to go on. "Right. Hermione, well, she understands that I... that I... really like her in an un-friendly sort of way." He cleared his throat. "I mean, in the way that I'm... I'm a guy and she's..."

"A girl," Harry interrupted. "I get it. You don't have to draw me a picture. What did she say to you?"

Ron gulped. "See, that's what I can't figure out. She gave me this long explanation about how she felt but I was so embarrassed about the way I'd acted I was distracted. Plus, she used all these big words like "plutonic" and stuff. Who knew dating involved astronomy?"

"We really need to get you a dictionary," Harry laughed.

"It's not funny," Ron said somberly. "I'm even more confused than I was before. She says that I don't listen to her. Of course I listen to her! I listen to her all the time! And she says I don't take her seriously – but do I take anything seriously?"

"She's still wearing the necklace," Harry offered.

"I think it's just because she feels guilty. Argh!" He threw his hands up in the air. "I give up. She gives me a bloody headache. I'll see you back in the common room." Scowling, he got up from the table and marched over to the exit.

Harry found himself alone with the last of his breakfast. He began wondering if Hermione was right about how Ron never took her seriously. In dire times during their adventures, Ron would listen to her. Of course, on an everyday level, that was a different story. It just wasn't in Ron's nature to be a serious person. Was that the kind of guy Hermione was looking for?

"Morning, Harry." His thoughts were interrupted by Nora, who took a seat on the vacant bench across the table.

"Morning," Harry replied. Nora looked good – much better than she had during their encounter with Malfoy. "How are things?"

"Good," she aid brightly. "Harry, I've got another favor to ask of you." She smiled sheepishly.

He took a bite of his toast, then chewed and swallowed, considering. "All right. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I know that all the first and second years have to stay behind when everyone else goes to Hogsmeade..."

Harry didn't like the direction this favor was headed in. He didn't want to get caught smuggling anyone into Hogsmeade. He assumed that's what she was asking for. Especially since he felt obligated to look after Nora after meeting Eva – not that it was a responsibility he didn't like.

"So, I was wondering if, well, if you could deliver a package for me?"

"A package?" Harry questioned.

She nodded. "To Eva."

"Sure," Harry replied. "But I'm afraid I don't understand. Do you want me to bring it to the Post Office in Hogsmeade?"

"No, Eva's living there now."

Harry's heart suddenly jumped into his throat. It was hard to breathe. Eva was a lot closer to him than he thought.

"She's staying at an inn for a little while until she finds something more permanent," Nora continued. "I forgot which one though. It had something to do with a hog. The Hog's Inn?"

"Hog's Head?" Harry suggested. The thought of a chance meeting with Eva while strolling the streets of Hogsmeade, just as they had in Little Winging, sent a chill down Harry's spine. What the hell had gotten into him?

"Yes, that's it. She's found that magical transportation is a lot easier to use, especially with her job at the Ministry."

"Oh, right, with Mr. Weasley. How's that going?"

Nora shrugged. "I'm not even sure what she does. She doesn't write about it. Have you written to her yet?"

Harry shook his head. "I... I don't think that it would be very appropriate."

Nora rolled her eyes. "That's the same thing she said when I told her to write to you again."

He felt his cheeks growing flushed. Was Snape right – did he have a crush? He was feeling similar things he'd felt when he used to look at Cho Chang. But Eva wasn't even around and he was already blushing.

"So you'll deliver it to her?" Nora asked.

Harry nodded. "Of course." That meant he was going to see her again.

"Good. I would have just sent it to her through the regular owl post, but every time that I've been up to the Owlery the past few days there haven't been any owls there."

As he came back to his senses, his heart finally dropped back into his chest where it belonged. "That's odd," he said. "You mean there aren't any owls around at all?"

She shook her head. "Not even the school owls."

He frowned. He'd sent Hedwig to deliver a letter to Remus the day before, and wasn't expecting her return for a few days. But all the owls gone at the same time? Could it just be a coincidence?


	18. The Rebirth of Dumbledore's Army

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

**The Rebirth of Dumbledore's Army**

Nora met up with Harry the next day. He was standing in line with his permission slip in hand to go to Hogsmeade at noontime. She gave him a small box that was quite heavy and wrapped in plain brown paper with a string tied tightly in a neat little bow. There were a two letters shoved between the strings for safe-keeping.

He felt butterflies in his stomach. They were annoying. He wished they would go away. It would be a lot easier to approach Eva if he wasn't so nervous.

Ron and Hermione thought he was anxious because of D.A. The only thing that he was worried about was if he spent too much time with Eva he'd be late for the meeting.

He must have changed his clothes five times that morning, and was now regretting the plain, white polo shirt he was wearing beneath his cloak. If it got wet, it would be ruined, and everyone would be able to see right through it. He didn't want to look like a drowned rat. Plus, he was wearing his only pair of khaki pants he'd ever owned in his life. There would be mud all over the streets and they'd be ruined. Maybe if he had time, he could _scourgify_ them a little before going to the Hog's Head.

When they finally did reach Hogsmeade, Harry had a hard time finding an excuse to separate from his friends. Hermione wanted to talk about D.A., but he quickly made an excuse that he had to go and mail the package he got from Nora.

"Why didn't you have Hedwig do it?" Ron questioned.

"I wanted it post-marked in Hogsmeade," Harry quickly replied. Neither of them questioned him. It would have made sense if he was mailing something secret. Like a letter to Sirius. But he certainly didn't have to worry about that anymore.

"We'll go with you," Hermione said. "I should check the price on international mailings."

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "I, er, I mean... I just need to take a walk. _Alone_. I need to clear my head. I'll see you at the meeting," he added, and quickly took off.

"That's odd," he heard Ron say. "The post office is the other way"

_Smooth_, Harry thought sarcastically. _Real smooth. They don't suspect a thing._ How was he going to keep himself together in front of Eva when the mere thought of seeing her turned him into a jackass in front of his friends?

When he finally reached the Hog's Head, he took a moment to collect himself before going into the pub. He felt under-prepared. Should he have bought her flowers or something? No, that was too suggestive. A nice gesture, but way too overbearing. Why did he want to give her flowers anyway? It's not like he owed her. If anything, it was the other way around.

But after her letter, Harry felt that he owed Eva a lot. If anything, it seemed to wake him up inside.

He took a few deep breaths and quickly walked inside of the Hog's Head. His muddy pants long forgotten, he stepped up to the bar, despite weird looks from the even weirder customers.

"What can I do for you?" The bartender, though somewhat intimidating, had never struck Harry as a scary man. He had wild white hair, but his eyes were very kind.

"I'm looking for Eva Finnigan," Harry announced. It came out as more of a bark than he intended it to be.

When the bartender shrugged, Harry feared that maybe Nora had told him the wrong inn. However, one of the barmaids appeared from somewhere behind the counter. "She ain't here," the younger-looking witch said. She had long, greenish hair and oval-shaped glasses. "Let's see, it's about midday now. She's probably just left the Ministry and headed to the Royal."

"The Royal?" Harry questioned.

The witch ignored him. "Imagine workin' all day at the Ministry, the Royal at night, and servin' drinks here until with wee hours o' the mornin' when the bad crowd's around." She shook her head. "Never knew Muggles had such a work ethic."

"Do... do you know when she'll be back?" Harry questioned, feeling silly for getting worked up for nothing. She wasn't even there. He should have realized that she was at work somewhere. She wouldn't sit around waiting for visitors.

"Probably not 'til after midnight," the witch replied. She eyed the Gryffindor patch on Harry's cloak, then searched his forehead for his scar. "Not when you're out an' about." She gestured to the package he was holding. "Yeh got mail fer her, or somethin'? I'll see that she gits it."

Harry didn't trust the barmaid. He quickly hid the package behind his back. "Uh, no thanks." He took a backed away from the bar and left the Hog's Head Inn.

When he stepped outside into the rain, he found the downpour only fitting. He felt obligated to get the package to Eva somehow. Maybe this was a cause for a small adventure outside of Hogwarts. Tonight, he could break out the Marauder's Map, which he could use to follow the secret passage way into Hogsmeade. Under the cover of his dad's old invisibility cloak, he could sneak back into the Hog's Head and give the package to Eva.

He was determined to see her again. He had gotten his hopes smashed by her absence that afternoon, but he would be back.

Now the only question was what to do with the package in the meantime. Hermione and Ron would just be even more suspicious if they saw it again after he'd said he was going to the Post Office. He hastily shoved it underneath his cloak before it was soaked by the rain.

"Hey, Harry!"

Harry turned around and saw Seamus running towards him with a bag full of candy from Honeydukes. "Hi Seamus," he greeted.

"On your way to the... eh, the meeting?" he asked quietly.

Harry checked his watch. It was already ten to one. "Yeah. Are you coming?"

"'Course I am." Seamus sounded insulted. "I know that last year... Last year it was an awkward time between us. I hope you won't hold it against me."

"Of course not." It was Harry's turn to feel insulted. "I guess I'm just surprised. I mean, you only came to the last meeting."

"It's just that I realized something," Seamus said, stopping besides Harry. Harry stopped as well. He looked apologetic. "No matter what me parents say, I know a battle on the way. You can feel it in the air, ya know? I had best be prepared. And I know that they might not trust you to teach us what you've been teaching us, but I know that _I_ trust you." He grinned. "Besides, it'll be a great way to get me grades up in Defense Against the Dark Arts. That Professor Leurre has been on my case about practicing my counter curses."

Harry laughed. But he found it odd that Seamus was so observant. Was there really a foreboding sense of war in the air? He had always had his personal battles with Voldemort, but had the time come for the whole wizarding world to be involved?

And where did that leave the Muggles?

He ignored the shiver that ran down his spine as he and Seamus headed towards the Three Broomsticks. He still didn't know what to do with the package. It was too big to fit in his pockets. Maybe he could try some sort of charm to shrink it, but not with Seamus watching.

"What have you got there, Harry?" Seamus asked.

Harry sighed. It was no use. He took the package out from behind his back and tried to shelter it from the rain. "I was supposed to deliver a package."

"Oy, is that me letter?" Seamus grabbed the box out of Harry's hands and flipped it to the bottom where the letters had been shoved between strings. "What are you doing with this?" he asked. He seemed to put two and two together. "You were supposed to deliver this to Eva?"

He nodded. "Nora asked me to."

"You know Eva?" Seamus questioned suspiciously.

"I, um, I escorted Nora to St. Mungo's after Eva had been in that accident. I met her there."

"Accident?!" Seamus cried. "What accident? What's a Muggle doing at St. Mungo's?"

It hadn't occurred to Harry that Seamus wasn't aware of what was going on in his cousins' lives. Thinking back to when he was in Dumbledore's office, he remembered what Nora had said when Harry suggested that Seamus should be the one to take her to St. Mungo's. _She won't see him_.

Why didn't Eva want to Seamus? Was there something going on in their family?

Seamus seemed embarrassed that he didn't know what was going on. Harry briefly explained about how she had handled the Devil's Snare at the plant shop. "She's fine now. Nora wanted me to deliver this to her."

"Here?" Seamus said. "She's living here?"

Harry nodded. He wasn't sure if he should have shared this information with Seamus or not. "She's got a room on top the Hog's Head."

"Hog's Head? That's a nasty place." Seamus eyed the package again. "Do you want me to take it for the meeting, Harry? And then afterwards we could deliver it together?"

"She's not going to be back at the inn until late tonight, according to the barmaid," he replied. "But if you could hold onto it during the meeting, that would be good."

"Oh. All right." Seamus took the package and put it inside of his bag of treats. "Do you mind if I ask why _you're_ the one delivering it?"

Harry shrugged. "Nora said that there weren't any owls in the school Owlery, so she asked if I could take it." This seemed to make sense to Seamus. Perhaps he had also witnessed the empty Owlery. Not wanting to talk about it any further, Harry headed towards the Three Broomsticksfor the D.A. meeting. "We'd better get a move on. We're going to be late."

"Wait, Harry," Seamus said suddenly. "If you do see Eva, please tell her to read my letter. Maybe coming from you..." His voice trailed off.

Harry nodded. Silently, the two of them stepped inside the pub. Ron and Hermione were already there, along with Colin and Dennis Creevey and Luna Lovegood. They motioned for Harry and Seamus to join them at a nearby table.

"I know that Dean and Neville are coming too," Seamus said, taking a seat next to Colin.

"Gin's bound to round up a few more," Ron added. Hermione, however, looked skeptical.

"I think we're going to have a few less than last year," she said. "Due to special circumstances."

Harry sank into his seat. He doubted that Ginny's old boyfriend, Michael Corner and his friends would show up, or Cho and her friend Marietta Edgecombe, who had betrayed them last year, would either.

With only a few minutes to spare, Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley strolled inside out of the rain. So did Hannah Abbott, Padma and Parvati Patil, along with Susan Bones, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, and Zacharias Smith. Ginny and Neville rushed in at the last second.

"Sorry," Neville apologized, pulling over a chair from an empty table. "Long lines at the post office. Everybody's there. Can you believe that all of the owls at Hogwarts have gone missing?"

Harry frowned. There was something fishy going on. But there was no time to dwell on it. Hermione pulled out a slip of parchment with everyone's name on it, which appeared to be the same slip that had gotten them into so much trouble last year. Marietta Edgecomb's name had been crossed out.

Harry took a deep breath and checked his watch. It was already a few minutes past one. "It looks as though everyone's here." He straightened up in his chair. "I'd like to welcome you all to the first unofficial meeting..."

The front door opened and shut quietly. He glanced towards the entrance. Cho was standing there, alone. She looked a little frazzled by the rain and a little embarrassed to be late, but gorgeous nevertheless.

Harry tried to ignore the flip-flop his stomach did at the sight of her. He didn't know she could still do that to him. She hastily made her way over to the group.

"Sorry I'm late," she said quietly. "Can I still...? I mean, is it okay if I...?" She glanced up at Harry.

He sighed. He didn't know that he could really trust her again. Although, it did take guts to come back to D.A. He glanced at Ron, who just shrugged. Hermione looked thoughtful. Ginny looked positively furious. Did Cho have her heart in the right place? Was she there to learn, or to merely make life a living hell for Harry?

He hoped he wouldn't regret it as Harry pulled up another chair between him and Seamus. "Have a seat. You're just in time."

Cho smiled and sat down, ignoring the murmurs around her. Harry continued. "I know we're a little smaller this year, but that doesn't mean that we matter any less. We must double our efforts. We need to recruit more. For all of you know just as well as I do that the battle against Voldemort has just started."

Some winced at the sound of his name. Hermione spoke up. "I'd just like to say," she said, staring directly at Cho, "that this year I've added an extra precaution to our contract." She held up the slip of parchment. She'd crossed off the names of the students who had graduated from Hogwarts, as well as those who hadn't show up for the meeting. "I've added another curse. If anyone has a problem with this, please let me know and we'll cross off your name you can leave immediately."

All eyes were on Cho, who looked defiantly back at Hermione. "I'm staying," she declared.

Harry thought he should have felt relieved, but he didn't. "Our first meeting will be next weekend," he said quietly. "Usual place, at ten o'clock."

"Are you sure it's okay to do this?" Dennis Creevey questioned. "It's not going to turn into a huge fiasco like last year?"

Harry shook his head. "Professor Dumbledore has given us permission. Although, I'm sure there would be certain teachers who would have no problem suspending our little club, so we all need to be careful. Umbridge may be gone, but there are dark eyes and ears everywhere." He glanced around the pub. It was mostly empty, except for a couple huddled in a corner together.

"Is there anything we should read up on?" Hannah Abbott asked. "What are we going to work on first?"

"We ought to review a little first," Harry said. "I think we could all use some work on our Patronuses. And counter-curses," he added, grinning in Seamus's direction.

Seamus returned the smile, but Harry got the impression he wasn't really paying attention. In fact, if he didn't know any better, he would guess that Seamus was still thinking about Nora and Eva. Throughout the rest of the meeting, even Harry's mind would sometimes travel to the sadness on his face. Something horrible must have happened in their family. And for some reason, he wanted more than anything to know what that something was.

The common room was bustling with energy once everyone got back from Hogsmeade. The first and second years were enviously eyeing all of the goodies that people bought. Nora had met up with Harry and asked about the package, but Harry said that she was working and he didn't trust the people in the pub at the Hog's Head.

"I'll use Hedwig," he told her. "She's due back any day."

Nora looked disappointed. "But that means you won't get to see her."

Harry grinned. He didn't want to tell Nora that he'd be sneaking out of the castle to see her tonight. He felt it would only encourage some rule-breaking on her part. "Maybe I'll write her a letter," he told her, and she seemed to brighten up a little. "Hey Nora," Harry said gently, "could I ask you a question?"

She nodded. "Sure."

"I know this probably isn't any of my business, but why don't Seamus and Eva get along? I sort of ran into Seamus today with the package..."

"Oh no," she interrupted. "Did you tell him where she was living?"

"It sort of slipped out," Harry replied.

"Oh well, he was bound to find out sooner or later," Nora said. "Better for Eva to get mad at you than me."

"That's just it," Harry said. "Why don't the two of them get along?"

Nora looked down at the floor. "Well, it's a long story, and it's not my place to say." She took a deep breath. "It's just family business, that's all. They've never gotten along. And not just Seamus. I mean, Eva doesn't really get along with anybody."

Harry found that hard to believe. Eva seemed like a very kind person to him. However, it was odd that she didn't have any friends, and even odder that she didn't get along with her family. But there were times when Harry felt that Seamus's family was a little different. There was the fact that his mother didn't tell his father that she was a witch until after they were married. Not to mention that, up until recently, Seamus's mother thought that Harry was pulling crazy stunts for attention.

"I understand," Harry replied. With relatives like the Dursleys, Harry could sympathize with Eva's position.

"You do?" She sounded surprised.

"Not everyone comes from a perfect family." He grinned. There was still a curiosity building inside of him about Eva's history with the Finnigan family, but he didn't want to make Nora uncomfortable so he dropped the subject.

Nora turned in and as ten o'clock rolled around, most of the common room began to clear out. He was waiting until everyone went to bed before setting off to Hogsmeade. He planned to leave at midnight.

Only Ron and Hermione remained with him. Time crept by slowly. After a few rounds of Wizard's Chess with Hermione while Ron finished up some last minute homework, the two of them looked rather sleepy. It was Sunday night, and the next day brought a whole week's worth of classes with it.

"I think I'm going to turn in," Hermione said, covering her mouth as she yawned. She was staring at Ron with such an intense stare, Harry felt as though he were invisible in the room.

"Oh. Right." He cleared his throat, his face bright red. "Well, I'll walk you to the door."

Harry looked from Ron, to Hermione, and back again. The girl's dormitory door was only about ten feet away. Boys were not allowed to go up the stairs. Had he missed something?

The two of them stood up and walked stiffly over to the dormitory stairwell. Hermione leaned against the door frame, as though she were waiting for something. Ron looked frightened, but as he took a step closer to Hermione, his expression changed. He looked excited.

Harry knew what was coming next. He knew that Ron was going to kiss her, and the thought of watching the two of them snogging in front of him made him uncomfortable, but for some reason he couldn't look away. It was like watching something grotesque – painful, yet so interesting he had to watch.

Ron leaned closer to Hermione, and her eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting. Ron tilted his head to the side, and their lips met.

Harry finally looked away. How did they make it look so natural? All of the kissing he'd experienced had been awkward and rushed. He would tilt his head wrong or forget to breathe. And it was always over so quickly. It seemed that Ron and Hermione were taking ages to kiss each other good night.

When they finally did part, Hermione, looking frazzled, whispered. "Good night." Ron's gaze followed her up the stairs. It was almost as if he was seeing her as a woman for the first time.

Ron sighed and sauntered back to where Harry was sitting in shock. "What the hell was that?"

He shrugged. "When you went to the post office, Hermione and I went to Madam Puddifoot's for some lunch. And well, we just got to talking. And then we got to hand-holding. And then she leaned over and kissed me, right out of the blue."

_That seems to happen a lot_, Harry thought. "You know, Madam Puddifoot's must have some romantic magic in it or something. That's the same place where Cho took me on Valentine's Day last year."

"To tell you the truth," Ron replied, "it did look like it was Valentine's Day inside. Everything was pink and they were burning these incenses that just made your head fuzzy. Not that I'm complaining," he added. "Did you know that's the place where everyone goes when they want to snog in Hogsmeade?"

Harry laughed. "It is?"

"Yeah, according to Ginny. Hermione asked her about it. Apparently, she was planning this." Ron tried to sound upset, but Harry could tell that he was overjoyed at the prospect of being seduced by Hermione. "Imagine: my little sister, the cupid of Hogwarts."

Harry grinned. He had no trouble picturing Ginny playing cupid. In fact, Harry had witnessed firsthand what a seductress she could be. Didn't anybody leave the romancing up to the man in the relationship anymore?


	19. A Midnight Visit to Hogsmeade

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

**A Midnight Visit to Hogsmeade**

"You coming to bed?" Ron questioned.

Harry shook his head. "Not yet."

"G'night," he mumbled as he practically floated towards the dormitory stairs.

"Good night," Harry called. He laughed. He didn't even need to think up an excuse about why he wasn't going to bed yet.

Harry didn't know if the pairing of Ron and Hermione was such a good match. Would things be different between the three of them in the morning? Would Harry have to put up with displays of public affection? When they fought – and he knew they would – would he be forced to choose a side? He tried not to think of what a disaster this could all turn out to be and tried to concentrate on the fact that his two best friends had just made each other extremely happy.

If only he could find that kind of happiness for himself.

A few minutes after Ron had disappeared, Harry checked his watch. It was midnight. He quickly pulled out the Marauder's Map and the invisibility cloak from his bag. He had Eva's package stashed carefully in the bottom.

After searching the Marauder's Map for any signs of wandering teachers or Filch, Harry was confident enough to step out of the portrait hole. He slipped the cloak on, just to be safe. He couldn't even trust the portraits in times like these.

He made his way to the third floor and hurried over the statue of the hump-backed, one-eyed witch. He tapped the statue once with his wand and whispered, "_Dissendium!_"

The hump of the witch opened and Harry squeezed through it. He couldn't help but notice that he was quite bigger than the last time he sneaked into Hogsmeade. As he made his way through the dark and twisted tunnel, his legs felt like jelly at the prospect of seeing Eva. The journey seemed to take even longer than it had before. He was so nervous. He tried to rehearse what he'd say to Eva when he saw her.

There was no good explanation for why he'd decided to come in the middle of the night, except for the fact that he wanted to see her again. He could say he didn't trust the barmaid to give it to her, but then there was always the chance that the two of them were friends. She did seem to know a lot about Eva's whereabouts.

Finally, the path seemed to be going upward, and before he knew it, he'd hit his head on the trapdoor that led to the cellar of Honeydukes. He put the map away in his backpack and made sure that the cloak was covering him completely. He took a deep breath and climbed out of the hole.

Harry quickly found his way through the cellar and climbed the stone stairs to the actual store. The only light in the store was from the ashes of a fireplace long forgotten. He was careful not to make any noise as he unlocked the door and slipped outside into the cold night.

The streets seemed deserted, but as Harry approached the Hog's Head, there were more and more people gathered outside on the chilly October night. Perhaps it was the only pub open. There were no lights anyplace else.

Harry carefully made his way through the maze of witches and wizards. There were even a few hags sharing a pipe near the entrance. When he finally made it inside of the pub, there was thick smoke in the air and it was hard to breathe. Bottles of Butterbeer littered the floor and along with the containers other drinks that Harry didn't recognize.

But he did recognize Eva right away. She had just cleared a table and was bringing empty glasses back to the bar with a tray in her hands. She stuck out in the crowd. Her hair was pulled back in a loose knot with some strands of coppery curls hanging on the back of her neck. She was dressed like a Muggle in jeans and an oversized sweatshirt with apron draped around her waist. But no one appeared to be paying any attention to her. She just went about her business behind the bar.

"'At's enough for tonight." The same barmaid who Harry had talked to earlier that day appeared from the kitchen. "Go on up. I've got you covered."

"That's okay, Annabelle," Eva replied. "I need the tips." He'd forgotten what her voice sounded like. It was a comfort to hear it again.

Annabelle pulled the tray away from Eva. "No, ya don't. You need some sleep. Go on."

Eva looked at the old, white-haired bartender for approval. He nodded. She sighed. "All right, I'll see you in the morning."

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Annabelle replied with a wink. "Oy, I forgot to tell ya. Ya had a visitor this afternoon."

"I did? Who was it?" Eva questioned. "Was it Nora?" she asked excitedly.

Annabelle shook her head. "No." Harry tried to ignore the disappointment he saw in Eva's eyes. "It was a boy."

"A boy?" Eva looked perplexed.

"Not just any boy, either. It was none other than the famous 'Arry Potter!" Annabelle hissed under her breath, careful that none of the patrons closest to the bar would hear.

"Harry?" Eva asked. "Are you sure?"

"'Course I'm sure!" Annabelle cried. "Saw his scar with my own eyes an' everyfin'!"

He wondered if there was there a sparkle in her eye that Harry hadn't noticed before. She grinned broadly. "And what did he want?"

Annabelle shrugged. "I don't know. He had a package with him, but he didn't leave it for ya. Maybe he was just visitin'."

Eva's smile faded. "I doubt it."

"And why shouldn't he be visitin' a smart, sexy, hard-workin' girl like yourself?" Annabelle demanded.

"I'm a Muggle," Eva said flatly, "nothing more."

Harry was disturbed by the way she said it. Like she was filth to him. Didn't she know that he had only been a Muggle himself up to a few years ago? Didn't she know he was raised by a whole family full of Muggles?

"Aye, and nothing less, either," Annabelle said. "Don't let them old wizards get ya down. If all the Muggles of the world are 'alf as good as you are, I wouldn't mind workin' with 'em."

"Thanks," Eva replied sheepishly. "Well, I'm off to bed then."

With one last smile and a wave to the bartender, she took off her apron and set it behind the counter and picked up her bag. She turned and headed up the stairs, not bothering to hide her yawn.

Harry saw his chance. He took a step forward into the smoke but his foot hit something hard. A beer bottle was sent flying across the floor. Harry inhaled sharply. Nobody seemed to notice the bottle rolling on its own accord.

Nobody but the bartender. Harry quickly looked up into the kind eyes of the old man and he had the distinct impression that he could see him right through the cloak. There was something familiar about those eyes.

But the old man went back to the drinks he was preparing without another word. Harry quickly took to the stairs and followed Eva up to her room.

The smoke seemed much worse on the second floor. Eva's room, he noted, was the third door on the right. Harry wasn't sure what to do next. He could uncloak himself now and scare her half to death, or he could wait. Wait for what, he wasn't sure. He was a little put off by her attitude towards him. Had he come off as a pompous, big-headed wizard who didn't have time for Muggles that day at St. Mungo's? But then in the letter, she had said that he was such a gentleman, and he was so caring...

The contradiction combined with the smoke was enough to make Harry's head spin. Eva had left her door open a crack and he decided to stay put outside, looking in for the perfect moment to deliver the package.

The first thing she did was go to her window and open it. She leaned out, breathing in gallons and gallons of fresh, cool air from outside. She pulled her hair out of the bun and it bounced on the back of her shoulders. Harry tried desperately not to find it the least bit attractive.

He lost track of the minutes that she stood at the window. She looked so luminous in the moonlight that he didn't mind watching her. Her breathing became heavier. Harry wondered if the smoke was getting to her, when she suddenly turned around and sniffled.

She was crying.

Harry felt his heart break as tears streamed down her face. He couldn't figure out why she was crying. Did it have something to do with his visit earlier that day?

After fumbling with a few matches she lit a nearby candle, illuminating the room around her. Harry saw it for the first time. There were letters spread all over the bed, along with pictures and photo albums scattered across the floor.

Eva shivered and pulled a nearby afghan around her shoulders. She grabbed a handkerchief and wiped away her tears, but they still continued to flow. Harry was now realizing just how cold it was in her room. He inspected the fireplace and it looked as though it hadn't been lit in weeks.

_How can she live like this?_ he wondered. Did she only sleep here? Was this her only home?

She picked up her bag and emptied the contents. There was a frilly dress inside, which she hung up neatly in the almost-empty closet. She also pulled out a pin that he recognized from the Ministry of Magic. It read _Eva Finnigan, Muggle Relations_. She opened a drawer and added it to a pile of identical buttons.

She dumped out the rest of the contents on the nearby desk. Eva was by no means a neat and organized person. There were newspaper clippings on the wall and all over the floor. When he looked closer, Harry saw that they were all ads for seasonal flats in the upper-class division of London. Was she trying to save up enough money to move away?

Her crying only became worse by the time she actually took a seat on the bed. Harry wanted to burst into her room and hold her, or shake her shoulders to make her stop. It was one of the most terrible things he'd ever seen in his life. If he had caused such pain in her, he didn't know if he'd be able to live with himself.

From the nightstand, she pulled out a piece of parchment and a ball-point pen. She quickly began writing. From his perch at her door, he could see it was addressed to Nora. The first thing she wrote was that she hoped that everything was okay, because she hadn't heard from her little sister in over a week.

_Of course! _Harry thought. That's why she was crying. Nora hadn't been able to send her any letters because all of the owls had gone missing. It wasn't because he'd dropped by. He felt incredibly stupid now that he'd ever thought Eva would cry over him.

But he knew just the thing to cheer her up. He had wanted to deliver the package in person, but in her current state of tears, he felt uncomfortable barging in on her. It was bad enough that he had been watching her all this time.

Without another second's hesitation, he took the package out of his bag and set it down in front of her doorway. Then he knocked on the door and quickly got out of the way.

Eva jumped. She got out of the bed and wiped her face, then opened the door. She saw the package on the floor and looked around for the person who knocked. She bent down and picked up the box and brought it over to her bed.

First, she took out Seamus's letter and opened it up. Harry watched her read a few words, but as soon as she figured out who it was from, she threw it on the floor without giving it a second glance. Then she pulled out Nora's letter and began reading.

Harry was glad to see a smile on Eva's face. She even laughed a little. But her smile quickly faded. She put the letter down on the bed and stormed over to the door.

Harry quickly backed away as she stuck her head into the smoky hallway and looked around in the darkness. "Harry?" she called. "Are you out here?"

He realized that Nora must have written something about how he was supposed to deliver the package. He should have known. But there was no way on earth he was going to show himself to Eva now. It had been a huge invasion of her privacy for him to be watching her like this.

He breathed a sigh of relief as she turned to go back inside her room. She was just about to close the door behind her when Harry was going to leave for good. Suddenly, she changed her mind and threw the door open with full force, knocking Harry sideways into the wall and his glasses off. He cursed loudly.

"I knew you were out here!" Eva shouted triumphantly.

Harry scrambled to shove his invisibility cloak inside his bag. It was no use taking cover now that she'd assaulted him with her bedroom door. He could feel warm liquid trickling out down lips and into his mouth. She had hit him square in the nose. It was a lot more painful than taking a Nosebleed Nougat.

"Oh my god!" she cried when she saw the state that Harry was in. "I'm so sorry, Harry, are you all right?" She rushed over to him and helped him to his feet. He was still seeing stars. "Of course you're not. I'm really sorry."

Harry managed to string some words together, but his tongue felt like sandpaper, and his mouth tasted of blood. "It's... I'm... Okay..."

Eva took him by the arm and led him into her room. He heard a soft crunch under his foot and realized that he'd just stepped on his glasses. She took charge and cleared a spot for him on the bed. She quickly found her handkerchief that was still wet from her tears and held it up to Harry's bloody nose. "Truly. I'm so sorry." But even with his blurred vision, he could tell she was grinning.

Once Harry had recovered a little and the bleeding stopped, she pulled the handkerchief away. Harry suddenly became very aware that her opposite hand was on the back of his neck and her touch sent shivers down his spine. "Just what were you doing anyway?" she questioned. "Were you _spying_ on me?"

"Er... I wasn't... Well, I didn't mean to..." Caught, he hung his head in embarrassment, causing a droplet of blood to fall out of his nose and onto his pants.

"Whoops. Better not do that," Eva said. She tucked his chin up so that he had a great view of the smoke clouds near her ceiling. She began to rub the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades. "Pinch your nose," she added. "Feel better?"

"Yes, thanks," Harry managed to reply. "And I swear, I didn't mean to spy, it's just that, you were..." His voice trailed off.

Eva smiled sadly. "Aye, I was crying. I guess you didn't want to walk into that train wreck. I don't blame you." She continued to rub the back of his neck. "You could have left me package with Annabelle, you know?"

"I know, but then I wouldn't have gotten to see you." Harry inhaled sharply. The truth had come out of him before he'd even had a chance to stop it. He tried to rectify it. "I wanted to, er, thank you for the letter."

"You're welcome," Eva replied. "I think the bleeding's stopped."

Harry let go of his nostrils and sniffled. There was still a little pain. He'd probably have a nasty bruise in the morning. He gestured to her handkerchief. "Sorry about that."

"Don't you dare apologize," Eva scolded. She took a seat next to him on the bed. "You know, I felt like someone was watching me." She grinned wickedly. "Imagine: the famous Harry Potter reduced to nothing more than a Peeping Tom."

Harry frowned. "I hate being called that."

"What? A Peeping Tom? This isn't your first offense?" She punched him playfully on the shoulder.

"No," Harry replied. "I hate being called famous."

"Well, you can't deny what you truly are," Eva said. "As a Muggle recently introduced into the Wizarding World, it is my regret to inform you that you really are quite famous. If your name is merely mentioned in the pub, people toast to you at least three times."

Harry covered his face with his hands. He knew he should feel completely mortified by all of this, but somehow Eva made it feel okay. It was true. He would never be able to escape the fact that every wizard and his children knew his name.

"Want to help open the rest of me gift?" she asked. She slid back on the bed so that she could lean against the headboard. Harry, now just realizing that he was on a girl's bed, with a girl, no less, felt incredibly uncomfortable. He cleared some letters from the foot of the bed and sat opposite Eva. She grabbed a letter opener from the end of her nightstand and ripped open the brown wrapping on the package. Inside, there were two jars filled with some sort of sand. She tossed one to Harry.

He was a little weary of opening his jar, but Eva opened hers without any hesitation. She lifted the jar to her nose and breathed in. "Mmm..." she mumbled. "Chocolate-chip cookies. What's yours?"

Harry opened his jar, which was filled with some purplish sand, and did his best to take a sniff without causing his nose to bleed again. It smelled familiar – flowery even. He should be able to recognize it after all the hours he'd spent in Aunt Petunia's garden. "I think it's lilac," he replied.

"My favorite," she said.

"What are these?" Harry asked, gesturing to the jars.

"Smelling salts, I think. For the room," Eva added. "In case you haven't noticed, the smell from the pub is terrible in here. I mentioned it to Nora and apparently she's come up with some kind of concoction to clear the room of horrible odors." Her eyes looked far away. "God, I miss her so much."

Harry was afraid that she was going to cry again, but Eva did look like she was quite capable of holding herself together. "I forgot," he said suddenly. "Seamus told me to tell you to read his letter."

Eva suddenly snapped back to reality. Her eyes narrowed. "Did he now?" Harry nodded. "Well, I already did read it, and you can tell him that it's filled with bullshit. Sorry," she apologized for cursing.

"It's all right," Harry said, rather confused. He didn't want to get in the middle of a family feud, but he couldn't help but wonder what was going on between them. "Seamus... He's your cousin?" Harry questioned, though he already knew the answer.

Eva stood up from the bed and picked up Seamus's letter off the floor. She strolled towards the window for some fresh air. "We're only family by blood and not in any other sense of the word."

Harry knew exactly what she meant. "I've got a family like that too."

"You do?" She turned to him.

He nodded. "Every summer I have to go and stay with my aunt and uncle in Little Winging. They hate anything weird or abnormal." He got up and joined her at the window. "So that means they pretty much hate me, as well."

He didn't know why he was telling Eva all of this, but once again he found words slipping out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Your aunt didn't seem like the friendliest person," Eva said quietly.

Harry shook his head. "They used to be much worse. They would lock me in a cupboard under the stairs before I found out I was a wizard."

"That's terrible." Eva shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I guess you haven't had good experiences with Muggles, eh?"

Harry grinned. "This one seems to be going just fine."

And for some reason he found himself taking a step closer to her. Maybe it was the way the candlelight danced across her face, or how the moonlight made her hair look more red then brown. Maybe it was the fire in her eyes or the way she smiled at him. He wasn't sure what made him do it, but before he realized it he was only inches away from her face. He'd never noticed how beautiful she was up close. And when she turned to him, her eyes serious and thoughtful all at the same time, he couldn't hold back. He couldn't look away. He was only conscious of his lips moving closer and closer to hers.

"Don't," she whispered.

Harry, as if awakened from a dream, jumped back to the other side of the window. He felt his cheeks redden as they never had before. He didn't know what to say. He had never felt so attracted to someone. But it wasn't just because she was beautiful. It was because she was easy to talk to. She was removed from the intensity of world that he lived in at Hogwarts. Who would have predicted that there would be a time in his life when he needed to escape the only place that had felt like home to him?

But now he'd crossed a line somewhere. He felt ashamed. "I'm... I'm sorry." He realized how this must have looked to Eva. First he was spying on her, and now he was trying to seduce her? What was wrong with him?

"We just... we shouldn't," she said simply, tuning back to look out the window.

"You're right," Harry agreed. He tried to laugh it off, but he knew he wasn't fooling anyone.

"It's just..."

"No, you don't have to explain." Harry took another step away from the window. He tried to look away from her, because he knew his face was bright red, but he just couldn't. "I understand."

Eva grinned and turned to face him. "I don't think you do." She pointed at his nose. "It would hurt something awful."

Harry lifted a finger to his nose and poked it gently. He winced as pain spread from his fingertip to his eyes, which started to water. "Oh. Right. You're right. Bad idea."

She shook her head. "Good idea, bad timing." She grinned at him, but when she met his eyes, she looked away. Was Eva actually bashful?

"That'll teach me to spy on a girl," Harry laughed nervously.


	20. The Empty Owlery

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

**The Empty Owlery**

There was a hint of red in Eva's cheeks when she finally did look him in the eye again. Harry was surprised at her reaction, but couldn't help wondering if his nose was an excuse just so she wouldn't hurt his feelings.

She took Seamus's letter out of its envelope and nervously folded it and unfolded it back and forth. "You know," she said, breaking the silence between them, "it's not exactly Seamus who I have a problem with."

"It's not?" Harry questioned, the embarrassment fading from his consciousness.

She seemed to hesitate. "It's his da. Me mum's brother." She took a deep breath and exhaled into the cold night air. "I guess it's not right to take it out on Seamus." She set the folded letter on her desk. Maybe Seamus had been right and she would listen to Harry. At least she hadn't thrown the letter away.

Harry suddenly noticed that she was shivering. There was gooseflesh trailing up and down her arms where she had rolled up the sleeves of her sweatshirt to help with his nosebleed. "Want me to light a fire for you?" he asked, gesturing to the fireplace.

She shrugged. "Doesn't matter." She checked her watch. "I'm only here for a little while longer anyways. Then I'm off to the Ministry."

Harry glanced at his own watch and saw that it was past two. "But when do you sleep?"

"I don't," she replied indifferently. "I slept last night." He could tell that she was trying to be casual about it, but it concerned him. "Don't tell Nora," she added. "I don't want her to worry."

He sighed. "All right. But I'm still going to light a fire. No reason to be cold for the few hours that you're here." And then he realized that he didn't have his glasses on, and it was pretty difficult to see anything that wasn't a foot away from his face.

He quickly walked out into the hall and got on his hands and knees, searching the floor. Eva joined him. "I'm so sorry about your glasses Harry. I can pay to replace them. I guess I didn't realize my own strength."

Harry gathered up the pieces and smiled at her. "Nonsense. Watch." He grabbed his wand from his pocket and performed the spell that he'd learned from Hermione that very first day on the train. "_Occulus Reparo_."

Eva gasped as the pieces of Harry's glasses molded together by themselves until the spectacles were as good as new. "Wow," she breathed.

Harry realized that this must be the first time she'd really witnessed any sort of magic. He laughed. "If you think that was impressive, wait until Nora comes home for Christmas. She'll knock your socks off."

Eva laughed, but her heart wasn't in it. Harry could tell she was thinking about how far away Christmas was. He hated to see the misery in her eyes. The loneliness.

The two of them went back inside the room. Harry found some matches and a little kindling to start the fire. It wasn't long before the flames lit up the room. When he turned away from the fireplace, Eva was staring at him.

"And here I was expecting to see some more magic, and then you go and use the Muggle way," she said disappointedly.

"Starting a fire isn't quite as glamorous as putting things back together," Harry said. Eva's room looked much more inviting with the gentle glow of the fire.

"Want something to drink? I've some warm Butterbeer around here somewhere."

"No thanks," Harry replied. It was getting late. It'd take him a while to get back to Hogwarts, and he'd be asleep on his feet soon if he didn't get a move on. "I, unlike you, do not have the super-human strength to function during the day without sleeping the night before."

Eva smiled and led Harry to the door. "Who said Muggles don't have any special powers?" She winked.

Harry found himself hesitating at the threshold. He didn't want to leave, but the rational part of Harry was him Harry to go before it was too late to get any sleep. And before he found some other way to make a fool of himself in front of her.

"You know, Harry, for being famous, you're very down-to-earth."

"Thanks," he replied. "You know, Eva, for being a Muggle, you're very magical." Then he realized how incredibly stupid he sounded. But Eva didn't seem to notice.

"Thanks for delivering the package," she said. "It means a lot to me. And feel free to write – or stop by – anytime."

"I'll keep that in mind." Harry wouldn't need an excuse to visit her next time, now that he'd been invited back. And there would be a next time.

"And I'm really sorry about your nose," Eva apologized. "I wish there was something I could do. Maybe you can ice it or something?"

"Don't worry about it." Harry touched it carefully. It was still quite tender. However, he would sneak away to see Madam Pomfrey early tomorrow morning if the swelling didn't go down yet. He could live with the pain for awhile. It was a bittersweet reminder of the time he'd spent with Eva.

"Well, goodnight," she said. She waved, then reached forward and pulled the door shut.

"Goodnight." Harry found himself grinning at her closed bedroom door. She had stirred up emotions inside him that he'd forgotten how to feel. He was excited in a way that Quidditch had never fulfilled him. He was hopeful in a way that none of his friends could ever awake in him. For the first time since Sirius's death, it felt as though he had a heart again.

But he couldn't explain how. How had some girl put this spell on him that made the rest of the world look so much brighter?

"Blimey, Harry, that's the nastiest bruise I've seen since Charlie tried to teach Percy to fly without a broom when we were kids," Ron said before Muggle Studies the next morning. Harry did have a nice bruise right between his eyes. He'd woken up late and didn't get a chance to go to the Hospital Wing before their first class.

"You should see the door I ran into," Harry replied. He hadn't told Ron the whole truth – about how that door happened to be in the Hog's Head, or that he didn't run into it so much as get hit with it. "But it's not as bad as it looks. As soon as class is over I'm going to see Madam Pomfrey."

"You should leave it alone," Neville said. "Girls like that."

Parvati, who was sitting in front of Neville, turned around in her seat, her long, dark plait trailing on the end of his desk. "And what do you know about girls, Neville?" she scoffed.

Neville turned red. "I just... I mean that they like scars and bruises and stuff. Tough guys."

Harry laughed. "Maybe I'll let it heal on its own then."

Parvati swirled around. "Why Harry? Are you trying to impress a girl?"

Harry knew that the entire class was looking at him, but for some reason, he didn't care. He just felt so good after the night before. He was refreshed. "Maybe," he answered, thinking of Eva, standing in front of her bedroom window with her hair down and her eyes sparkling.

"Ooh, who is it, Harry?" Parvati asked.

"It's not Granger, is it?" Lavender Brown demanded.

He glanced sideways at Ron, who was trying extremely hard not to give any indication that he and Hermione had kissed the night before. Harry was impressed by how natural things were this morning. If he hadn't seen the kiss for himself, he'd never have guess that Ron and Hermione's relationship had been taken to the next level.

"No, it's not Hermione," he replied.

"Who is it then?" Parvati questioned.

"Is she in our year?" Lavender asked. "Our house?"

Harry groaned. Letting on that he had any sort of feelings for anybody was a bad idea. Especially with the two Gryffindor Gossips around. "Never mind. I was just joking," he said hastily.

"Yeah, right," Parvati snorted. "I bet I know who it is..."

She was interrupted by Professor Avis's entrance. That morning she was wearing high heels that clicked as she trotted along the wooden floor to her place in front of the class. Her hair was pulled back in into a tight braid that trailed behind her back. She was wearing a sweater and jeans. This was the most that she ever looked like a Muggle. Harry was impressed. If it weren't for the rhinestone-covered cat-eye glasses, he would have never given her a second glance.

"Good morning, class," she greeted in her usual sing-song voice.

"Good morning," they replied automatically.

"Today is a very exciting day. Today we'll be discussing the details of our Halloween field trip, set to take place on Halloween night." She paused dramatically. "All Hollow's Eve is a special day in the Muggle world. There are religious aspects to this holiday, pertaining to spirits in the dead. However, on our actual field trip, we will be observing typical Muggles and mostly children as they participate in the time-honored tradition of Trick-or-Treating."

There were some "oohs" from the students who didn't know much about Muggle culture. Harry grinned. He'd never actually gone trick-or-treating himself, but he'd seen Dudley dress up for a dozen years. Ironically, he'd been a wizard on several occasions.

"We will be leaving on Thursday afternoon right after lunch. You'll be missing your afternoon classes."

"Yes! No Herbology!" Ron celebrated, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

"Calm down, Mr. Weasley," Profess Avis snapped. "I assure you, you're still responsible for all of the homework for that day."

Ron smile faded, but there was still a twinkle in his eye.

Professor Avis continued. "We will meet in this classroom promptly at one o'clock in the afternoon. The headmaster has been kind enough to connect our hearth to the Floo network. We will be traveling by Floo Powder to the Ministry of Magic in London, where Mr. Weasley..." she glanced at Ron, "Mr. _Arthur_ Weasley will be waiting. From there, we will take a walking tour around Muggle London and explore Muggles in their natural habitat."

Beside Harry, Neville's had shot into the air. "Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Are we actually going to get to go trix... I mean, are we going to go treating?"

"No, I'm afraid that after a long debate, we've decided it's a little too risky. However, that afternoon we are going to do something even better." Professor Avis grew quite excited. She waddled over to her desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a flier. "I've reserved us all a tour of the Tower of London and a special showing of the crowned jewels. We will be studying Muggle history and cross-referencing key historical dates and figures with our own." She grinned broadly, handing it to Ernie Macmillan to pass around to the rest of the class. "And if I don't get any trouble from any of you, I won't make you write an essay and compare the two.

"I have to stress that you must all be on your best behavior. I know you all possess a curious mind, but please keep your hands to yourselves and your lips shut. The school governors were very gracious for letting us go on this field trip, and if all goes well it will become an annual outing. Unless you choose to mess it up somehow. However, you're all intelligent students. I don't expect trouble from any of you. Yes, Miss Brown?"

Lavender put her hand down. "I was wondering, Professor Avis, what are we supposed to wear? Do we get to wear costumes or anything?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Everyone will be dressed uniformly in black with a sweater that you will all be receiving at the Ministry."

Both Parvati and Lavender looked disappointed. "Why do we all have to look the same?"

"So that we'll look like we belong in a tour group. No fussing, girls, that's just the way it has to be." She cleared her throat. "As for the rest of the day that we've planned, Mr. Weasley has managed to pull some strings for us. That night, we're going to have dinner at a very special place: the Royal Dining Realm."

Professor Avis paused as though she were waiting for some more cries of astonishment from her class. "Don't you know what the Realm is?"

Neville raised his hand uncertainly. "I... I think that my Gran has eaten there. Whenever she goes, she's always dressed in ruffles and frilly clothes."

Professor Avis nodded. "The Royal Dining Realm is a special themed restaurant, which Muggles refer to as a Medieval Dinner. There is food from the old days, along with lots of entertainment that is important in both Muggle and Wizarding history. We're all going to have an excellent time."

"What kind of entertainment?" Ron asked.

"There will be jousting and fencing and games."

"Excellent!" Dean cried. "Will we get to joust?"

"I'm afraid not," she replied. "It's much too dangerous. I must ask all of you not to draw too much attention to yourselves. We have to do our best to blend in with the crowd. If we raise too much suspicion or are discovered in any way, it will be disastrous."

The mood of the males in the class seemed to deteriorate slightly at the sound that there would be no jousting or fencing involved in that night's dinner. "It's not fair," Ron muttered. "Muggles get to have all the fun."

After a few more minutes of explanation, Professor Avis was satisfied with her field trip lecture and the class began discussing the Muggle novel they had to read called, _To Kill a Mockingbird_. The novel was written by an American author who had grown up in the deep southern states. It was about the trial of black man who was unfairly charged with the rape of a white woman. Harry couldn't help but notice that the racism in the book was something that he could apply to the riff between Wizards and Muggles, and even Wizards and non-human creatures. It reminded him of the unfair treatment that Lupin had suffered with for so many years and the trials he still had to face because he was a werewolf.

Class went by quickly, and before Harry knew it, the bell rang. "Please finish the last chapter for Wednesday and write a response. I want at least a foot of parchment." She dismissed them and then disappeared back into her office.

As Harry gathered his supplies, Parvati turned to him, a mischievous grin on her face. "So congratulations, Harry."

"Congratulations on what?" he questioned, confused.

"On you and Ginny," she said. "It's about time you two got together." She turned around, her darkhair flipping with her, and practically skipped out of the classroom. Everybody in the classroom froze, except for Neville, who quickly followed Parvati out the door.

Harry's mouth dropped. He suddenly felt all eyes on him. "Wait!" he called. "I'm not – Ginny and I..."

"She's got to be joking!" Ron exclaimed. "You're going out with my sister and you didn't even _tell_ me?"

"We're _not_ going out," Harry said forcefully. "We're not together. Ginny and I are friends, that's all. Nothing more."

"That doesn't mean you don't want it to be more," Lavender giggled. "We saw this coming long before you did, Harry."

"You don't understand!" Harry cried. "Really, we're not a couple and we don't want to be."

But it was too late. The entire class was buzzing with the new gossip. Harry fumed. He was going to hex Parvati into oblivion.

After both Harry and Ginny tried to set the record straight about a dozen times, he found it was nearly impossible to stop word from reaching the entire school. Harry apologized for what had happened, but Ginny seemed to take it right in stride. She was much more collected when it came to gossip.

"They'll get tired of it, Harry," she said. "You'll see. Next week we'll be old news. Besides, when they see that we're not together, they'll get the idea."

He hoped she was right.

After dinner that night, Harry climbed the stairs to the Owlery. He wanted to get a breath of cool autumn air before going down into the dungeon for his Occlumency lesson. At least it would be the only one for this week because of the field trip. He thought he deserved a few days off; he was absolutely exhausted.

But what troubled him when he got to the Owlery was why Ginny had given him such a rejection in the first place. What transformation had she gone through that had turn him from a childhood crush to nothing more than a friend? He had to admit, his ego was a bit bruised when she casually informed him that there was nothing romantic between them.

In truth, the feelings he felt for her were in no way romantic at all, but more or less of a brotherly fashion. However, the fact remained that he was not her brother and she didn't seem the least bit attracted to him. And now, as he watched her nonchalantly refute the mere idea of the two of them together, she didn't bat an eyelash. Somewhere inside of him, it hurt a little.

As Harry pushed open the Owlery door, he took a deep breath, bracing himself for the smell of owl droppings and rotting mouse carcasses. But when he did look inside, the sight amazed him.

Where there had been a pack of owls, there were none. Each perch was empty. There was no stench of droppings or any sign of life in the deserted Owlery. It was so eerie that Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

He walked over to the window, his feet crunching on the hay-covered floor. He looked out, wondering where Hedwig was and if she was safe. He remembered that Dumbledore had said that owls had been intercepted earlier in the year. What if Hedwig had met the same fate – or worse, that she'd been killed?

No, he couldn't worry. Worry only put him on edge. The past few days had been so nice since he'd seen Eva. He'd felt as though he was on top of the world until Parvati opened her big mouth.

Suddenly, Harry heard voices from outside the Owlery door. A snicker. The door was quickly thrown open, and Malfoy and his two goons walked in. He was carrying a tiny package.

Malfoy sneered. "What are you doing up here, Potter? Waiting for Weasley so the two of you can have a little romantic rendezvous?"

Harry's fists clenched at his sides. "Ginny and I are _not_ dating."

"I wasn't talking about _her_," Malfoy chuckled. Crabbe and Goyle laughed along with him.

Harry could feel his blood boiling. He needed to get away from Malfoy before he did something stupid. After all, the Owlery was at the top of one of the tallest towers at Hogwarts, and the windows were all open. There was no telling if Malfoy got too close and Harry happened to bump him over the edge.

He checked his watch. He only had a few minutes before he was due for Occlumency. "I don't have time for this," he muttered as he walked past Malfoy.

"Going to be late for a remedial Potions lesson?" Malfoy snickered. "Too stupid to learn it by yourself, eh?"

Harry lingered in the doorway. He wanted nothing more than to take all of his aggression out on Malfoy with his fists. But he needed to be prepared for anger like this. When he met Voldemort again, or if he ever saw Bellatrix, he would have to control himself. He took a deep breath. "Whatever you say, Malfoy. At least my godfather wasn't too stupid to find a way out of Azkaban." He flashed a grin in Malfoy's direction, who was at a loss for words, and then marched down the stairs towards the dungeon.

Feels good to put that little bastard in his place, Harry thought with a smile.


	21. A Costume Only Fitting

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

**A Costume Only Fitting**

Harry had finally done it. After an hour of blocking Snape from his mind, he'd managed to hit him with a jelly-legs jinx. Harry tried desperately not to laugh as Snape jiggled around the dungeon before performing the correct counter-curse.

In fact, the whole night had gone rather well. Snape had not seen any of his memories. He hadn't lost control of his emotions, even when Snape talked about Sirius as nothing more than a half-bred mutt.

It made up for the bad afternoon he'd had with Parvati's big mouth. The image of Snape with jelly legs was worth twenty verses of "Harry and Ginny, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." He had to wonder if his peers had nothing better to do than act like children.

Snape, who was still out of breath from the curse, glared at Harry with fierce eyes. "We're done for tonight, Potter. I'll see you on Thursday. Get out of my sight!" he bellowed.

Harry, who had been halfway to the door as soon as he'd heard the phrase _we're done_, stopped dead in his tracks. He turned back to Snape, who was red in the face and greasier than ever.

"Professor, I've got my Muggle Studies field trip on Thursday. We leave after lunch and don't get back until late at night."

There was a glimmer in Snape's eye as straightened up at his desk. "Then you can't go."

"But... I have to..." Harry stammered. He'd been looking forward to the Halloween field trip ever since the first week of school.

"No, you do not _have to_," Snape spat. "You cannot go."

"But it's for a _class_."

"But it is not required. It is not a test. It is not an examination. It is a silly field trip and a waste of time," he growled. However, Harry couldn't help but feel that he was taking some sort of sick pleasure in spoiling Harry's fun.

"Sir, please, Professor Avis and Mr. Weasley have made reservations. They're expecting me to go."

"Then I will give you a choice," Snape replied. "Your training is now more important than ever, Potter. You will miss the field trip and stay for your lesson on Thursday, or you will go on the field trip and we will have our lesson on Friday."

"But sir, I have Quidditch practice on Friday night. Our first match is this Saturday. I can't miss it." And Snape knew full well that it was against Slytherin.

"Then you must choose. The field trip or Quidditch."

"Isn't there any other time we could do it?" Harry asked. "Tomorrow?"

"I will not rearrange my entire schedule for your silly little excursions, Potter," he snapped.

Harry scowled. What could Snape possibly be doing the night before Halloween? Of course, it was Devil's night. Perhaps he had to go out and cause mischief with his fellow demons. However, it didn't matter, because Harry still had to make a choice.

He didn't want to miss the field trip. He'd only been to London on a few occasions. Hopefully, Ron would understand about Quidditch practice.

He took a deep breath. "I'll see you on Friday."

Snape gave no response. Harry sighed and trudged out of the dungeon, his spirits squashed beneath Snape's jelly legs. It was going to be hard to enjoy himself on the field trip if he knew he'd be letting his team down the next day.

The twenty students in Muggle Studies scarcely touched their lunch on Halloween. They Great Hall had been decorated with bewitched pumpkins and enchanted bats. There was a skull centerpiece in the middle of Harry, Ron, and Hermione's table.

"It's too bad you're going to miss the feast," Hermione said quietly. She held Ron's hand discreetly in her lap as he picked at his soup with his other hand. Harry found the gesture sweet, yet a little unnerving.

"Why don't you and Ron come out about your... your relationship?" Harry asked suddenly. Hermione shushed him, but he kept talking. "What's the big secret?"

"Did you see what happened when word got out about what you were doing with my sister?" Ron hissed.

"I wasn't doing _anything_ with Ginny!" Harry cried angrily. "How many times do I have to tell you?" He glanced at Ginny, who was sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table, chatting with Luna Lovegood. Both she and Harry had decided that they shouldn't be seen together – it would only make the situation worse.

"He – I mean, both Ron and I – just decided that some things should be kept private," Hermione explained. "Eventually we'll tell people. It's just that, right now, we like having our own little secret." She grinned at Ron, who squeezed her hand.

The expressions on their faces made Harry lose his appetite. "Well, I'm going to get going to Muggle Studies. Don't want to be late or anything."

"I should go too," Ron said, letting go of Hermione's hand and standing up. "I'll see you later tonight," he said. He hesitated, as though he were thinking of giving her a proper goodbye.

"See you," she said.

Ron's face was flushed. "Right... Bye, Hermione." He flashed a small smile and then joined Harry at the doorway.

"Honestly, you'd think you were leaving for a week or something," Harry grumbled.

"You're just jealous," Ron teased. "If you had someone as great as Hermione waiting for you at Hogwarts, you wouldn't want to leave either."

Harry smiled. "I suppose not." Why was the image of Eva in a Gryffindor house uniform, sitting next to him on a couch in the common room enough to make his heart jump into his throat? He thought back to what Nora had said. If only she were a witch...

It was no use wishing for things that could never happen.

When the two of them reached the Muggle Studies classroom, most of the other students were already there. Instead of wearing their normal house colors, everyone was dressed the same in black pants and a white shirt. Professor Avis was wearing an ankle-length black skirt with a pumpkin sketched near the bottom hem. Matching pumpkin earrings hung from her ears, and every few seconds they would light up. She had a whistle on a rope around her neck, and after everyone had arrived, she blew into it.

Everyone immediately stopped talking and stood at attention. Professor Avis cleared her throat. "Good afternoon everyone. I hope you're all excited for today's field trip. In a few minutes, we'll travel one by one to the Ministry using Floo Powder. I'd like to remind you all that you need to be on your best behavior. There will be no goofing off, no Muggle bashing, and absolutely no magic.

"When you hear my whistle, I want everyone to stop what they are doing and line up for the head count. It is very important that we all stay together. The Muggle world can be a very dangerous place. Questions are welcome, but please try to blend in with the crowd. We are trying to be invisible."

After a few more last-minute warnings, she had everyone line up and take turns with the Floo Powder. Harry and Ron were near the end, and when they reached the Ministry, Mr. Weasley was already handing out the gray sweaters they were all supposed to wear. There was a patch on the sleeve with an open book on it, along with the initials M.O.M. stitched into it.

"What's mom?" Ron asked.

"Not mom. M-O-M," Mr. Weasley replied. "M.O.M. stands for the Ministry of Magic. However, if someone asks you, you are to say that you are from the Major Oxford Merchant Academy. This is a clever way for other wizard folk to recognize us and to be disguised as Muggle tourists."

Harry didn't know how clever it was for Muggle use. He'd never heard of Major Oxford Merchant Academy.

"Are Muggles really going to talk to us?" one Hufflepuff girl questioned.

"More likely than not," Mr. Weasley said. "Just act natural. They're just like you and me."

"No need to worry, dear," Professor Avis said after she had arrived. "We all speak the same language. Er... Usually."

As Harry looked around the hallway they were in more closely, he realized that they were outside the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office on the second floor. The door was open a little, and Harry couldn't help but casually peek inside.

"We've got a few minutes," Mr. Weasley said to Harry privately. "You could stop in and say hello if you like."

Harry jumped, startled that Mr. Weasley had seen him. "Er... No, that's all right. Unless, um, is Eva working?" he asked quietly.

Mr. Weasley shook his head with a sad smile and glimmer of mischief in his eye. "Sorry, she's already left for the day. She's only part-time, you know. She's got another job."

He nodded. "I know – I mean, that's what Nora told me," he added quickly. "I was just wondering how she was doing." Harry felt his face redden. He should have known that she wasn't there. Now Mr. Weasley might suspect that there was something between them.

Harry hoped there was.

By far, the most amazing experience for the students in the class was not the tour of the Tower of London or even when they received some free samples from a local candy store. "It doesn't do anything special," Ron complained as he bit into some hard candy. "I thought there'd be sparks or something."

No, the greatest experience was Muggle transportation. The ride on the red double-decker bus was enchanting. Everyone rushed to the top excitedly and waved to the pedestrians below.

Harry didn't find the ride that impressive. He had, after all, ridden on the Knight Bus, a purple triple-decker bus, twice. Though the ride through London was a bit more exciting and had cooled him off from being on the stuffy tour all day.

"Hermione'll be mad she missed this," Ron said, leaning over the side of the bus.

Harry shook his head. "I bet she's done this loads of times before."

Ron, substantially deflated, turned around and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll never find a way to impress her."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Do you need to impress her?"

Ron shrugged. "I just wish there was something special I could do for her. Something that nobody else could do but me. Of course, being stuck at Hogwarts doesn't help much. What kind of a date can you have at a school?"

"There's always Hogsmeade," Harry suggested. "You could take her back to Madam Puddifoot's."

"That's all right, but I want something special. Something spectacular." Ron frowned. "Something romantic – and private. I was thinking of going up to the astronomy tower at midnight sometime, and we could look at the stars. She'd like that."

"Yeah, she would," Harry agreed. "But how are you going to get up there?"

"There are about seven doors with locks we'd have to break through somehow; I walked Ginny to astronomy last week and counted. If only it wasn't so high up. The windows are always open. It'd be easier to get in that way."

"You could take your brooms."

"She won't fly," Ron explained. "I don't know why, but she refuses. I even said that she could ride behind me and hold 'round my waist. She won't do it."

"That's odd."

Ron nodded. "I know that she's never been much of a Quidditch player, nor a flier, but now I can't even get her on a broom." He sighed and went back to watching the street. "If only I could find a black market flying carpet or something. Something that flies that she would feel safe on. Like the Anglia."

"I don't think you'll run across that flying contraption again," Harry chuckled. "Too bad you don't have another car."

Just as the bus turned a corner, a motorcycle pulled out in front of it. The double-decker's brakes squealed as it came to a halt. Harry heard several honking horns before the bus moved again.

"That's it!" Harry cried.

"What is?" Ron questioned.

"You can take Sirius's bike," Harry said. "It's safer than a broom – and faster too. I'm sure Hermione would ride that."

"Are you sure it's okay?" Ron asked. "You'd really let me use it for a date with Hermione?"

Harry shrugged. "It's just sitting behind Hagrid's hut. At least someone would get some good use out of it." Harry looked away. He couldn't meet Ron's eyes, but he did mean what he'd said.

"Excellent!" Ron shouted. "Thanks so much, Harry. Now I _know_ Hermione'll be impressed." He clapped Harry on the back. "But maybe I should take it on a test drive first, you know, just to make sure that I won't crash into any trees when Hermione's on it."

Harry nodded. "Fine with me."

Ron seemed to have caught his second wind. The class's morale seemed deteriorated from hunger, and everyone was overjoyed when Professor Avis said that dinner was their next stop. Neville, who had already received half a dozen warnings for speaking about the wizarding world in front of Muggles, also perked up at the sound of a meal.

"Gran wrote me a letter about the Royal Dining Realm," he said to the two of them. Harry was surprised, as he'd been acting oddly around the two of them for the past few days. "She said they have a special show on Thursday nights."

"What else did she tell you about it?" Harry asked. It was the first time Neville had spoke to him in a while. He wanted to be polite.

"She said that you're supposed to call all of the waitresses and barmaids "wenches." And when you want something, like more food, you just shout out for the wench at the top of your lungs and she comes running."

"I'd hate to be a wench," Harry said sadly.

"At least they have good service," Ron said.

"And actually, they're all women," Neville explained. "It's just like it was in ancient times. Gran says that it reminds her of her own grandmother's stories when she was a little girl."

"Yeah, ancient times when women were assaulted at every meal," Hannah Abbott grumbled, standing next to Neville. "They were always taken advantage of. The wenches were only one step up from the prostitutes. They got a very raw deal."

"How do you know?" Ron asked.

"You know Ron, for being a prefect you sure didn't pay much attention in History of Magic last year. Professor Binns talked about it for a whole two days before the Goblin Rebellion."

"Oh... Right..." he replied, his face growing red. "Must have slipped my mind."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I don't know what she sees in you."

"Who?"

"Hermione."

Ron's jaw dropped. His face turned the same shade of red as his hair. "H-how d'you know about that?"

"She told me about it," Hannah said simply.

"When?" Ron demanded.

"Yesterday, in the bathroom before dinner. She told Susan and me the whole thing."

Ron choked as though he'd swallowed his own shoe. Luckily for him, the bus came to a stop and Professor Avis and Mr. Weasley quickly ushered everyone off the bus. They led the class to a large brick building that looked as though it covered the expanse of an entire block. Professor Avis lined them up in two rows of boys and girls, and then blew her whistle.

"There are a few things I should say before we go inside," Mr. Weasley announced. "Number one, we must all be on our best behavior. It was lucky that we could get even get some seats inside this dining hall. I had to have one of my special friends pull a few strings for me, but we managed to get in. Number two, there may be some of _our kind_ inside, but that does not mean that any sort of magic is permitted." He had whispered _our kind_ and glanced over at Neville, who looked rather pleased that he'd be seeing his grandmother. "And number three, have fun! Eat a lot. There will be plenty to go around. Once we get inside, everyone will get to pick out a costume, and then we'll proceed to the arena to watch some medieval games, and then the feast will begin!"

"Couldn't have said it better myself, Arthur," Professor Avis said. "Enjoy yourselves!"

After Mr. Weasley checked in at a desk inside, everyone was ushered into two changing rooms – one for boys and one for girls. The boys' room was filled with costumes from all ranges of nobility and peasants. Immediately, all of the boys separated, searching out what role they wanted to play.

Ernie and Justin found some jester costumes, complete with two-colored hats that had bells on the end. They even had little booties with curled up toes. Dean and Seamus changed into some nobility costumes that had matching crests over the breast pockets, along with great white frilly collars that hung around their necks. The last pieces were huge, wide-brimmed hats with a large feather poking out of each one. Ron decided to wear a beggar's costume with patches on the elbows and knees, and also came with a tin can for collecting money.

Neville found a wizard's costume with a robe of deep black velvet and a matching hat. "Look!" he cried to the others. "I'm Dumbledore!" The costume also came with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles.

"Shut up, eh?" Dean hissed. "You've already gotten us in enough trouble already." Neville had a few outbursts during their tour earlier that day about the wizarding world, which had earned him some strange looks from nearby Muggles.

Harry searched in some old dusty trunks but couldn't find a costume that he liked. The crowd outside of the costume room was growing louder, and he knew he only had a few minutes before the show began. He thought about just throwing on something so he could join the others outside, when an old oak armoire caught his eye.

He opened the top drawer and neatly folded inside was a knight's attire. Black fabric sparkled with metal mesh as he pulled out the dusty costume. Instantly, he knew that this was the costume for him. He quickly pulled it on, his decorative metals clanging against the armor. There was even a sword in its sheath that he wrapped around his waist. There was a crest on his chest that matched the one on Dean and Seamus's costumes. The last piece was a silver helmet with three small red feathers poking out of the top.

"Ready, Harry?" Ron questioned. "Wow, you look spectacular!"

Harry studied himself in a nearby mirror. "Yeah, almost real."

"Is there another costume like that lying around?" Ron asked. "I think that maybe I should pick a new costume."

"Nah, that one suits you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron demanded, insulted.

"Nothing." Harry grinned. "C'mon, let's go."


	22. The Players

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

**The Players**

The arena was filled with people in costumes. Harry couldn't even tell who was a Muggle and who wasn't anymore. Everyone was swept back in time to a different place where honor was won on the back of a horse and chivalry still existed in the hearts of men.

On each end of the arena was a jouster. One was wearing golden armor and rode a horse that was pure white – much like Harry's patronus. He was clearly the designated good guy. He was introduced as Simon the Protector, and all of the noble ladies swooned over him. He waved to the crowd as they cheered him to victory.

His nemesis, who was introduced as William the Black Knight, did not receive such a warm welcome. The crowd booed and hissed when he took off his dark, three-horned helmet to wave to the ladies of nobility, who spit at him. His horse was black to match his armor, and it snorted every time its master pulled on the reigns.

Each of the knights were handed a lance, which they both raised high above their heads until the long, heavy spindles of wood were perpendicular to the ground. In the center of the arena, a maiden waved a red flag. The two jousters pulled on the reigns of their horses. They each ran to the left of a long wooden guide bar, their lances parallel to the ground, lances aimed at one another's hearts.

"That's why British Muggles drive on the left, you know," Harry heard Professor Avis say to some nearby students, "because of the joust."

The crowd cheered as Simon the Protector hit the Black Knight with his lance on the shoulder. The Black Knight cursed and missed his target. The two of them returned respectively back to their corners.

In the second round, the Black Knight struck back with a terrible vengeance. Harry joined in as the crowd booed and hissed. He truly felt as though he were part of a different place at a different time.

And it felt good not to be Harry Potter for a little while.

After a few more rounds, Simon the Protector had managed to knock the Black Knight right off of his horse. The joust ended with the Black Knight swearing his bitter revenge.

The show continued with a performance from two royal jesters who swallowed fiery swords and juggled daggers. Then Simon and the Black Knight returned in a sword-fighting demonstration that left everyone breathless.

"It's Muggle dueling," Professor Avis whispered. Harry was surprised that she wasn't being more careful about mentioning the wizarding world, but all of the spectators were too involved in the show to listen to her.

The last event in the arena was of Simon the Protector, reading sonnets to a woman dressed in black lace. She wore a veil over her head, disguising her appearance. Simon talked of his forbidden love for the woman named Beth – who Harry assumed was the woman in black. She was merely a servant, and he was a knight. It was not right for him to love her. She bid a tearful farewell to him that even had Professor Avis sniffling by the end.

After the show was over, everyone in the arena was shuffled into the dining hall. The hall reminded Harry of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. It was set up in practically the same way. There were four long wooden tables and a red carpet forming a center aisle that led to the stage. On top of the stage there was a High Table, much like the one that the staff at Hogwarts sat at during mealtimes. In the center of the table, where Dumbledore would have sat, there were two royal thrones.

Chandeliers hung low from the ceilings providing light on the table tops. Golden goblets sparkled on the table. There was no silverware. Harry took a seat between Ron and Mr. Weasley. Parvati and Lavender sat across from him. They'd been keeping an annoyingly close watch on him ever since they started the rumor about him and Ginny. They were wearing matching dresses made of fine pink silk.

Some of the performers from the arena entered the stage from a hidden door. A jester played the trumpet and cleared his throat. "Presenting his Royal Highness, King Edgarof Glouster, and his queen, Ramona." The jester beckoned for everyone to stand up.

Harry quickly got to his feet, peering past Parvati and Lavender as the middle-aged couple marched arm and arm up to the table on the stage. They were both wearing elaborate costumes, complete with golden crowns that contained sparkling emeralds.

The king and queen sat down on their thrones behind the table. They were joined shortly by two knights. One of them was Simon the Protector from the arena. The jesters and the rest of the players sat down.

"Before we begin our meal," the king announced, "we'll have to show our guests how royalty eats. Wench!" he shouted.

A woman dressed in a frilly, low-cut dress sauntered out on stage. She had a large metal tray that rested against her hip. There was a silver pitcher on it along with a piece of cloth. The tray swayed with her hips as she made her way over to the king.

The wench poured some red liquid into the king and queen's goblets. Then she set the tray down on the table and picked up the cloth. She draped it seductively around her neck and across her shoulders, past her chest, and then wrapped it around the king's neck like a bib.

She turned to the king and winked. "Can I get anything else for you?"

"Not for me, but for our guests." He gestured to the audience. "Send out the rest of your lot. The wenches are here to serve. Anything you ask for, you shall receive." He grinned wickedly. "If you need more of something, just hold the empty platter above your head and shout 'Wench!' and she'll come running."

Across the table, both Parvati and Lavender looked positively disgusted at the idea that any self-respecting woman would be at a man's beck and call. Harry frowned beneath his helmet. Just who were these women anyway? Medieval prostitutes?

"Another thing you may notice is that we don't use any sort of utensils. You eat with your hands. Don't be afraid to make a mess. And have fun – that's what this feast is all about!" the king cried. He clapped his hands. "Let the celebration begin!"

Cheers rang throughout the dining hall as the doors from the kitchen burst open and a dozen wenches, dressed in the similar style of clothing, hurried to each table. The four tables were partitioned off into three sections, and each wench took her place at one section.

There was something familiar about the woman in the low-cut dress who approached Harry's part of the table. Something about the way she walked. Something about her smile and the curl of her hair. As she drew closer, Harry felt his heart catch in his chest.

Eva.

She wandered over to their table and smiled brightly at Mr. Weasley. "Hullo everyone! Welcome to the feast!"

"Hello!" Mr. Weasley greeted. "Everybody, this is Eva. You can thank her for the dinner tonight. Without her, we would have never gotten in a reservation. The waiting list is nearly a year long to eat here!"

Eva grinned sheepishly. "Don't mention it. And well, in this realm, I'm afraid I'm not Eva but merely Elisabeth the Wench."

Harry felt his blood pressure rising. He could hear his heartbeat echoing in his ears. Just the sight of her was enough to make him forget to breathe. She looked stunning in her dress made of frills of soft, baby-blue material. He recognized it from her room at the Hog's Head. She was wearing a sterling sliver chain around her neck that fell down her throat to her cleavage. It made Harry blush to see so much of her skin.

However, he couldn't help but feel slightly disgusted that everyone else in the room could see her flesh as well. Harry had an urge to rush over to her and drape his cape around her shoulders so that no one could see what he saw.

He also couldn't help but notice that she was clearly the youngest wench, as all the other tables had women who looked to be in their thirties waiting on them. He glanced down to the end of the table at Seamus. Did he know what she was doing? Did he care?

"So what can I get to quench your thirsts?" Eva asked. "We have some of the clearest sparkling water, some juice made of the exotic fruits of the Caribbean, or a pint of the best virgin ale."

At the sound of the word virgin, Ron let out a tiny squeak next to Harry. Clearly, he was distracted by her beauty. Harry elbowed him under the table and he let out a small moan.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," Eva said, staring at Ron.

"Water," he said quietly. "Just water."

"I'll have a pint," Mr. Weasley said. Lavender and Parvati both ordered water as well. Neville, who was sitting next to Lavender, ordered the juice.

When it was Harry's turn, he realized that Eva didn't recognize him with his helmet on. Again, there was something exciting, something mischievous about watching her when she didn't know he was. However, he didn't want to disguise himself any longer. He took a deep breath and removed his helmet.

"Harry!" Eva gasped. Clumsily, she dropped her tray. It crashed loudly on the cobblestone floor. She quickly bent over and picked it up, then brought her hand to her chest, realizing that she had given Harry's side of the table quite a view. Her cheeks grew red and she quickly adjusted her dress. "Er... What can I get for you?"

A smile played across Harry's lips. "I'll have a pint."

"Right. I'll... I'll be right back." She bowed her head and followed as the other wenches disappeared into the kitchen.

"Do you _know_ her?" Ron questioned, now fully recovered.

"That's Nora's sister," Harry said quietly, hoping that no one would overhear him. But Mr. Weasley and Neville were deeply engaged in a conversation about the illegalization of some wizarding plant. Parvati and Lavender were whispering to each other secretively.

"She's really... gorgeous."

Harry frowned. He didn't particularly like the idea of Eva wearing that beautiful dress every night, serving groups of men and tourists who ordered her around. It worried him. Why on earth would she put up with the humiliation of being a slave every night? Was she that hard-pressed for money?

"I bet she does special favors too," Parvati said under her breath.

"Yes, especially with that dress," Lavender replied. "Honestly, what kind of a place is this? Is it a brothel or a dinner theater?"

"Would you two shut up?" Harry snapped. "It's a costume. That's all. A _costume_." Harry was trying desperately to reassure himself of the same thing.

"Why are you sticking up for her?" Parvati asked. "How did she know your name, Harry?" She gasped. "Oh no, don't tell me that you've been cheating on Ginny!"

"Are you insane?!" Harry cried. He glanced at Mr. Weasley, who was still absorbed in his conversation with Neville. "How many times do I have to repeat myself? _There is nothing going on between me and Ginny_."

"Well, there certainly won't be once she finds out that you've been accepting favors from some wench," Parvati snarled.

"We don't give out favors of any kind here," Eva said. She had quietly returned to the table, carrying a tray with their drinks. "It's all strictly performing. It's not a brothel, and yes, this dress is just me costume. But the tips are most generous when I wear it."

Both Parvati and Lavender's faces turned beet red. Harry noticed a triumphant gleam in Eva's eyes as she gave them their waters. Harry thanked her for his pint of the non-alcoholic ale, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. Maybe she was a little embarrassed about her appearance.

Or maybe she had heard Parvati talk about Ginny. Maybe she thought that Ginny was Harry's girlfriend or something. He suddenly felt sick inside. Eva couldn't think that he was in a relationship – not after what had almost happened back in her room at the Hog's Head. If she thought that he had a girlfriend, she would think he was a two-timing prat.

"Arthur! Arthur!" Professor Avis was beckoning to Mr. Weasley from the other end of the table. "Could I speak to you for a moment?"

"If you'll not be needing anything else, I'll be back with your first course," Eva told Mr. Weasley, then disappeared into the kitchen. Mr. Weasley got up from the table to go see Professor Avis.

Suddenly, Neville leaned over the table, so close to Harry that their faces were only a foot away. His eyes were serious and clouded with trouble. "Do you swear to it, Harry?"

"Swear to what?"

"That you and Ginny... you aren't..."

Harry slammed his fist on the table. "Get this straight and get it final," he said between clenched teeth. "Ginny is one of my closest friends. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Satisfied that his point had been stated, Harry crossed his arms over his chest. He'd lost his appetite. Why should anyone care who he was dating anyway?

After a few moments of awkward silence, Eva appeared carrying the handle of a large cauldron in one hand and a few loaves of bread in the other. She set the bread down on the table and asked for everyone to pass their bowls for some soup.

"But we don't have any spoons," Parvati complained. "How are we supposed to eat it?"

"You're supposed to drink it," Harry replied. He lifted his bowl to his lips and slurped. "See?"

"That's it. Harry's got the right idea." Eva beamed at him.

"That's disgusting," Parvati sad.

"Actually," Ron said, after taking a sip of his soup, "it's quite fun."

Mr. Weasley returned from the other side of the room and sat down to the first course. "That's the spirit boys! You know, in medieval times there was no such thing as a spoon or a fork. Only knives."

"Isn't that kind of barbaric?" Lavender asked.

"That's the way it was back then. Everyone was barbaric. Even worse than that Black Knight chap," Mr. Weasley added.

"I hear he's not so bad once you get to know him," Eva said with a grin. "An excellent jouster. It's too bad he loses night after night. Can I get anyone anything?"

"Wench!" two Ravenclaw boys called, holding up an empty goblet and an empty bowl of soup. Their wench looked over at Eva with a pained smile.

"Well, if no one needs anything, I'll go lend a hand. Just call me." Eva hurried over to help at the other end of the table.

Harry glanced up. If anybody at his part of the table called Eva a wench, it would take everything inside of him not to launch himself across the table at them. He tried not to make it obvious that he was watching her every move.

Eva returned with a silver pitcher of ale and quickly filled the two students' goblets. She was just about to make her way back to Harry's table when suddenly, the massive wooden doors of the dining hall opened. The room darkened as a cold breeze swept into the hall, blowing out some of the candles in the chandeliers.

Harry heard a horse snort and hooves clanking against the wooden floor. Some of the wenches and the maidens at the table screamed. William the Black Knight had brought his stallion out of the arena and into the dining hall. He pulled on the reigns and the horse took off, galloping down the center aisle.

"I'll have my revenge!" the Black Knight called. "Not by joust, not by sword, but by heart!"

The audience gasped as he circled the room and headed straight for Harry's section of the table. Both Lavender and Parvati squealed as he drew nearer. Then he realized that the Black Knight's target was not his table, but Eva.

Suddenly, the Black Knight reached out and grabbed Eva by the waist and lifted her up onto his horse. She screamed and struggled, but he held her securely as she road side-saddle up to the stage where the king and queen sat.

Simon the Protector was on his feet in a flash. "Unhand Elisabeth at once, you bastard!"

"Elisabeth, you say?" the Black Knight taunted. "Isn't this your precious Beth?"

The queen stood up. "Beth, that woman you've claimed your love for, she is only a _wench_?!" she cried.

"Yes," Simon replied. "I'll not hide it any longer. I love her."

Harry glanced across the table and saw that both Lavender and Parvati found this scene positively romantic. Harry rolled his eyes. He sat back as Simon battled against the Black Knight in one final battle between good and evil. The Black Knight, of course, lost and the two lovers were reunited and accepted into the royal family. It was all a very happy ending. Too happy to be true.

However, something stirred inside Harry as he watched Eva perform up on the stage. She wasn't that bad of an actress, but he knew what was coming next. All of the people in the hall were rooting for the star-crossed couple who had battled the odds and wanted their love to conquer all. Simon the Protector leaned in for that final, satisfying kiss...

And something inside Harry suddenly burned with jealousy. He took his wand out of his pocket – which should have been left at Hogwarts – and pointed it up on the stage.

"_Tarantallegra_..."


	23. The Consequences

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

**The Consequences**

Rationally, Harry knew that Eva was merely a player in this dinner theater. Rationally, he knew the kiss that was about to happen was nothing more than a finale to a performance. Rationally, he knew she kissed him every night.

But Harry knew that if he had to watch Eva kiss another guy, something inside of him would die.

His wand was out of his pocket before he even had time to think of it. He muttered the incantation. Ron, who had recognized the words, turned to Harry, wide-eyed.

"What are you doing?!" he demanded. "Harry, are you crazy?"

But it was too late. The damage had been done. The spell, which he had directed at Simon, now headed straight for Eva as he dipped her low for a spectacular smooch.

_I am in _so_ much trouble_.

The spell hit Eva dead on target. It was hard to see the magic itself in the dim room with all of the spotlights on the stage. However, all of the students, including Mr. Weasley and Professor Avis, recognized it for what it was and looked around to see where the spell had come from.

Eva made a kind of whimpering noise as her legs started twitching beneath her dress. She stood up so quickly on her feet that she head-butted Simon, who fell over backwards onto the stage. Eva wandered around on dancing legs, looking terribly confused and bewildered. She ran into the table where the king and queen were, then headed towards the horse before the stagehands finally pulled the curtain closed.

A Muggle dressed in all black climbed out from the pit in the floor where the technical crew was. "Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the inconvenience. Please, sit back, relax, and our show will continue momentarily."

Harry found that highly doubtful, considering that the counter-spell was the only remedy to Eva's current condition.

Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet. "This is bad. This is very bad. Martha, get the students together and get them back to the Ministry at once. Tell Fudge that the dinner was canceled and that they all need to get back to Hogwarts as quickly as possible."

Professor Avis nodded. "All right, you heard Mr. Weasley, stand up. We've got to get going," she said hastily.

"You. Sit." Mr. Weasley firmly placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and forced him back into his chair. "You're going to help me fix this mess."

Harry gulped. What had he done? In a moment of weakness and stupidity he'd let his jealousy get the better of him. He'd get expelled for sure.

After a few more agonizing minutes of waiting, the same Muggle appeared at the front of the dining hall and apologized, saying that the show was canceled. Everyone's money would be refunded.

Instead of following the crowd back to the arena, Mr. Weasley led Harry up to the stage where he got a chance to see Mr. Weasley's Muggle relations skills at work. He distracted the stagehand by complaining about the horrible show and then pushed Harry past the curtain.

Nobody seemed to notice him in the chaos. The horse had been spooked and most of the stagehands and the rest of the players were trying to calm it. There were goblets and plates scattered all over the floor. He could still hear Eva's heels clicking against the wooden floor.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" the young man who played the Black Knight demanded as he watched Eva trip around the stage. Harry saw that without his helmet, he didn't look quite so evil. He had brown curly hair that was plastered to his forehead with sweat.

"I... I don't know David, I can't stop!" she said breathlessly.

He stood up and approached her, his arms open. Harry thought for a moment he was going to hug her, but instead, he grabbed her wrists, trying to keep her still in one place. However, her legs just kicked and scratched the floor beneath them.

"Ouch! Stop, David! That hurts!"

"Sorry." He abruptly let go. Eva continued to wander around the stage on her shaky legs. David chased after her.

Harry quickly hid behind a nearby pillar and made sure that he had the correct aim this time. He muttered the counter-jinx and Eva fell to the floor, panting.

The Muggle who Mr. Weasley was complaining to suddenly stepped through the curtain and marched over to Eva. "Eva Finnigan!" his voice boomed. "What kind of stunt are you trying to pull? Get into my office, NOW!"

Eva jumped up to her feet looking positively fearful. Mr. Weasley took a step towards her and whispered in her ear. "Meet me at the Ministry."

She nodded curtly, glanced wearily at Harry, and then followed the director off stage.

Mr. Weasley led them back to the costume room, where Harry took off his Knight's armor and transformed, once again, back to Harry Potter in a sweatshirt that said "M.O.M." on the front. Quietly, he followed Mr. Weasley outside.

Instead of stopping, he kept walking towards the direction of the Ministry. Harry stayed one step behind him in the darkness. He would have given anything for Mr. Weasley to have been shouting at him. Anything was better than the silence that stood between them.

After a good ten minutes and a lot of thinking of what he had done wrong, Harry found himself outside of the Ministry where the telephone box was. Mr. Weasley dialed the number and stated his business to the welcome witch.

Mr. Weasley did not speak as they took the lift to the second floor. The silence was killing him. Mr. Weasley was probably incredibly angry with him, not to mention disappointed. This was some kind of stunt that Fred and George would have pulled, but not Harry Potter. He felt so ashamed of himself.

When he closed his eyes, all he could see was his portrait on the Weasleys' clock, and hear Mrs. Weasley's voice welcoming him home.

Once they reached the office, Harry suddenly felt a tight grip on his shoulder as Mr. Weasley turned Harry to face him. He could still see the anger in his face, but his eyes were troubled. "I don't know why you did it Harry, but you'd better have a damn good explanation for it. If charges are filed, I won't be able to get you off the hook this time."

Harry tried to swallow the enormous lump in the middle of his throat. He wouldn't have been able to speak even if he could have thought of something to say. "I'm going to do some damage control and talk with Eva. You can sit over at that desk and don't you dare try to pull anything." He sighed. "Honestly, I never expected this from you."

Mr. Weasley turned around and went inside of his office, leaving Harry to think of his last words. He'd completely lost Mr. Weasley's trust.

Harry was too upset to know how much time had passed before Eva finally came storming into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She was dressed in her normal, everyday clothes, which were soaked with water. It must have started raining. She took a deep breath, tried to dry her hair a little, and then marched to Mr. Weasley's desk.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been listening, but couldn't help but creep closer to Mr. Weasley's cubicle to listen in on the conversation.

"Have a seat, Eva," Mr. Weasley offered.

"Somebody," Eva said breathlessly, "somebody, I don't know who, used magic on me tonight."

Harry's heart rate increased rapidly. Was Mr. Weasley going to tell Eva that it was him? That Harry had cast the spell on her? But he didn't reply.

"I don't care who it was," she continued, outraged. "I want to know why. Why would they want to humiliate me up on stage like that? Why would they want me to lose my job?"

"I'm not sure that was their intention."

"So they just wanted to have a little fun with the Muggle, eh?" Eva cursed. "It's a cruel joke, I'll tell you that much. I feel like the Muggle victim in those terrible stories you tell. My boss thought I was _drunk_! He thought that I'd come to work intoxicated! _Me_! And how could I explain the truth to him?"

"You didn't, did you?" Mr. Weasley asked suddenly.

"Of course not!" Eva snapped. "I'd be breaking about a dozen Ministry rules, not to mention he'd probably have me committed. I couldn't do anything but ask for a second chance. He said that he didn't give second chances and that I'd best seek some professional help." She cursed again. "He thinks I'm a bloody alcoholic! Oh, what am I going to do? I needed that job!"

If Harry had been feeling bad before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. Eva worked so hard at all of her jobs, and now he'd just gotten her fired.

"Maybe I can talk Fudge into making your job full-time," Mr. Weasley suggested.

"No," Eva replied. "I don't want any special favors. I know that things between you and Mr. Fudge aren't exactly smooth right now." Mr. Weasley tried to protest, but Eva refused.

"So did anyone else suspect anything out of the ordinary?" Mr. Weasley questioned. "Did everyone think that you were just... intoxicated?"

"Yes. Well, all but David," Eva said. "He knows there's something suspicious going on. And he knows I'm not a drunk."

"Do you think he'll try anything funny? We could call in the Obliviators..."

"No, I can handle him," she interrupted. "I told him it was a severe muscle spasm. He didn't buy it, but I know he'll drop the subject sooner or later."

"All right, Eva, you have two choices." Mr. Weasley took a deep breath. "I know who performed the spell."

"You do?"

"But before I tell you, you need to decide what course of action you want to take." He paused. "Right now, as it stands, the only people who know that magic was used are me, you, the other chaperone at the dinner, and the students from Hogwarts. However, I am the only one who knows who did it. If you file a report with the Ministry about this incident, there will be an investigation. The Muggles will be questioned, the students will need to testify as witnesses, and the individual who performed the magic will face severe consequences."

Harry gulped. Eva's question mirrored his own. "How severe?"

"The individual in question will be immediately expelled from Hogwarts, meaning that he will no longer receive further magical instruction. He will also face heavy fines, a possible sentence in Azkaban, as well the breaking of his wand."

"What does that mean?"

"That the individual can never do magic again."

Eva gasped. "That's rather harsh."

"Well, you are a Muggle. The Ministry does not take these infractions lightly. You have suffered some damage from this whole escapade."

"What's the other option?"

"Your second choice would be to not file a report. Fudge would not know about this incident, and you would merely take the fall for everything that happened tonight. That means if someone asks you about the incident, you must agree with the story that you were, in fact, intoxicated and that is why you lost your job. The individual will still receive some consequences, but they will be much less severe."

"What kind of consequences?"

"The headmaster will certainly be informed of tonight's chaos. The individual will lose some special privileges and be given a series of detentions. You will also receive a formal apology immediately." Harry thought for sure that Mr. Weasley had said that last part a little louder to make sure that his voice would carry outside. "It is your choice."

Harry held his breath. This could be the end of him.

"Well, I would never want to prevent a witch or wizard from never practicing magic again," Eva replied. Harry breathed a sigh of relief on the other side of the door. "I don't relish the idea of taking responsibility for tonight, but I'll be okay. I do not wish to file a report with the Ministry."

"I think you'll find that you made the right decision," Mr. Weasley said. "Harry, please come in."

Harry felt his cheeks redden as he stepped inside Mr. Weasley's office. Eva looked confused. She still somehow managed to look gorgeous, even though she was still soaking wet from the rain.

"I believe you have something you wish to tell Miss Finnigan."

Harry took a deep breath, his gaze cast down on the floor. He couldn't meet anyone's eyes. Eva had just saved him from his worst nightmare. "Eva, I'm so sorry."

"But... then... it was Harry?" She looked from Harry to Mr. Weasley, then back again.

"I'm afraid so." Mr. Weasley got up from his desk. "I'll just leave you two alone to sort this out." He quietly left the room and closed the door behind him.

"Harry..." Eva began. "How... how could you? Why?"

"I don't know," Harry replied. That was the easy way out.

But she wasn't going to go easy on him. She got up from her seat and stalked over to him. He could smell the rain on her like fresh morning dew. "Look at me," she demanded.

Cautiously, Harry raised his eyes until they met hers. He could see she was very upset. Her cheeks were nearly as red as his. "Why?" she asked again.

How could he put his feelings into words? How could he possibly tell her that it was the jealousy inside of him that made him do it? No, it wasn't even the jealousy. It was the pain he would have felt if he had to watch her kiss someone else. He didn't know at what point she had captured his heart, but he was sure that she had, and he wasn't going to allow her to break it so easily. How could he tell her his entire explanation when they'd only known each other for so little time? How could she possibly understand?

But she certainly wasn't going to buy his ignorance. He had to think of something to say.

"Why?" she demanded again.

"It... it was temporary insanity," Harry replied. "Everything happened so quickly. You were swept up on that horse... He looked as though he was going to throw you off at any moment. I forgot it was only a show."

"But... why did you wait until the end to do it? And how was it supposed to save me?"

That was true. He had many opportunities to use the spell. It was the almost-kiss that had shaken him up. And a crazy-dance jinx didn't add much sense to his bravery. "I don't know, okay? I just thought that you were in danger. I thought I needed to rescue you."

Harry could see in her eyes that she didn't believe him. Instead, her face grew red with anger. He was quite sure he was really going to see the Irish temper in her tonight. "Rescue me?!" she cried, offended. "Harry, I don't need to be rescued!"

He didn't know what to say. With Eva fuming in front of him, all he wanted to do was grab her by the wrists as David had done and make her stand still for just a few moments so he could kiss her. So she could feel how he felt, so she would understand what was going on inside of his head – and his heart.

"If... if it's about the money, I've got money. I'd be happy to pay you." He'd give her all of his money in Gringotts if that's what it took to win her back.

Immediately, he knew he'd said the wrong thing. "First you insult my intelligence with your absurd story and now you try to insult my integrity by paying me off?!" she cried. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Everybody told me that you always played the hero. I should have believed them! Well, I don't need your charity, Harry Potter. Go and save somebody else!"

She grabbed her coat and didn't even bother to put it on before she marched out of the office and slammed the door shut behind her.

Harry winced. Not because of the door slamming, but because of what Eva had said. It stung. It hurt. He was pretty sure it hurt even more than if he had been forced to watch her kiss another guy.

Mr. Weasley opened the door turned off the lanterns in his office. 'You got off easy Harry. You were very lucky." He gave him a pat on the back. Harry barely felt it. He was still stunned. "C'mon, Dumbledore is waiting for you back at Hogwarts."

And somehow, he didn't find that very reassuring.


	24. A Means to an End

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

**A Means to an End**

Harry traveled back to Hogwarts using Floo Powder at the Ministry. He stumbled out of the fireplace into Dumbledore's office. The headmaster, in his night robe, was sitting at his desk in silence, his long fingers stroking his beard. "Good evening, Harry. Have a seat."

He thought that his guilt couldn't possibly get any worse, but Harry found that he felt even more horrible as he took a seat in the chair across from Dumbledore.

"Arthur has just informed me that Miss Finnigan does not wish to file a report with the Ministry." His eyes narrowed at Harry, who tried to sink into the back of his chair. "You are, indeed, very lucky, as this shall remain our little secret. However, you will also be facing some consequences, which I'm sure you are aware of."

"Yes sir," Harry replied.

"Because of the mischief that took place, I'm afraid that your entire Muggle Studies class has been assigned an essay illustrating the differences and similarities in the Medieval Muggle and Wizarding histories. Their essay will be one-foot of parchment, yours will be three. Also, starting next week, you will be joining Professor Avis in her office for detention every night that you do not have Occlumency." He paused, his eyes shining in the light of the fireplace.

"You will never speak of the events that took place after the other students left the dinner," he continued. "They have been told that you were separated from the group because Mr. Weasley thought it was an attack on you. However, they all suspect that somebody in your class was doing magic. They do not know who."

"Yes sir," Harry said. He was wondering why Dumbledore was showing him mercy. He certainly didn't feel like he wanted any sort of special treatment. He deserved what he got. If it was to be ridiculed by his peers, so be it.

Dumbledore took a deep breath and hunched over the desk, staring directly into Harry's eyes. "I'm not going to ask you why this happened, Harry," he said. "But I daresay that this is something that you must learn to control if you are ever to master Occlumency. Please, think about what you have done and how things could have turned out." He looked grave. "And try to get some rest."

Harry knew he had been spending far too much time with Snape. He could read his moods with a single glance. Today he was particularly angry, and Harry sensed that it had something to do with his work for the Order. Perhaps his spying wasn't going as well as he thought it was.

Snape sneered at him from behind his greasy hair. "On time today, Potter?"

Harry gave a short nod, then took out his wand, expecting Snape to hit him with a spell at any moment. Instead, Snape merely glared at him, his eyes searching. For what, Harry didn't know.

"You should have stayed behind yesterday," Snape continued casually. "Look at what sort of trouble you got yourself into, running around in the Muggle world. Casting spells and rescuing wenches..."

Harry's insides turned cold. "How do you know about that?"

Snape scoffed. "Do you think you can keep a secret from me?"

Instead of feeling threatened, Harry was confused. What was Snape playing at?

"How are you going to be the Order's weapon if your mind cannot even withstand the simple prodding of an old, decrepit, _greasy_ potions master?"

Greasy as he may be, Harry knew that Snape was anything but old and decrepit. Harry tried to look into Snape's eyes, but Snape quickly turned his back on Harry and stepped behind his desk. Feeling even more uneasy from Snape's behavior, Harry held his wand out, ready to strike him at any time.

Snape opened his desk drawer and pulled out a shallow basin, carved with runes. Harry recognized it as the Pensieve that he had looked into on two previous occasions. The silver light coming from it illuminated Snape's pale face as he looked up at Harry. He raised his wand.

Harry lifted his wand in his own defense, expecting Snape to cast a spell on him. But instead, Snape started swirling his wand in the cloudy silver substance. He muttered some inaudible incantation and pulled his wand out of the Pensieve, a long silver string trailing behind it. He twisted his wand, circling his ear, and the silver strand disappeared inside.

Snape got up from his desk and approached Harry. Harry took a step back. He couldn't meet Snape's eyes, but he had changed dramatically. Snape seemed strangely vulnerable in his own dungeon. He raised his wand and Harry braced himself for the spell to come.

"_Legilimens!_"

This time it was so strong that Harry could see a dark blue light cast from the tip of Snape's wand. Harry emptied his mind, blocking thoughts of Quidditch and Muggle Studies and nightmares and Eva.

He was completely numb.

It was an eerie sensation. His scar tingled, but it did not hurt. He felt like the removed Harry from his dancing dream. He was in his own body, but he was far away. He could see Snape standing before him, shaking as he tried to break into Harry's mind. Harry would not let him through.

It was time for Harry's offense. He was ready to pummel Snape with every hex in the book. He was defenseless.

And then, something unexplainable happened. As Harry raised his wand, he heard himself speaking, dimly recalling the same incantation that Snape had used on him.

"_Legilimens..._" Harry whispered.

Suddenly, it felt as though the bright light from Snape's wand had flashed directly into his eyes like a laser and was cutting into the scar on his forehead. He could see a reflection of himself in the light. No, it was not him. There was no scar. The eyes were not green, but hazel.

It was his father.

He was once again faced with the striking image of a teenage James. He looked older than the last time that Harry had seen him. But he wasn't boy – yet he was not a man.

_"You owe me, Snivellus."_

_"I don't owe you a damn thing..."_

_"I saved you. I saved your life. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"_

But what kind of life was it? A life where there was no line between good and evil? A life of a greasy-haired boy, unloved and battered? A million angry thoughts entered his mind. _How did he know where she was? How did he always arrive to save the day?_

_"You could have been dead, Severus. Or worse – you could be a werewolf. Just let me go to her. Let me try to help her. If I fail, she's all yours. You have my word."_

He offered his hand. Surprised, Harry felt his own hand hesitate, then lift to shake his father's. It was smooth. Firm. Honest. There were no signs of hard labor or scars of cruelty. James turned and ran down the pathway to a clump of bushes where he could see a girl with her head buried in her hands. His mum.

_Lily... I've lost you_...

The last thing he could hear was the sound of his father's chain necklace bouncing against his chest. The blue light dimmed and the image of his father crouched next to his mother disappeared from Harry's mind. He was still standing, though the pain from his scar and the heartache he felt was enough to make him pass out. He felt sweat on the back of his neck, trailing down between his shoulder blades.

Snape was watching him from the other side of the dungeon, but he would not meet Harry's eyes. He simply slipped his wand back inside of his robes and opened his office door.

"We're done, Potter."

He had said it so final, so forceful, that Harry didn't question him. Snape stepped into his office and threw the door shut, leaving Harry alone in the classroom, stunned.

Had he just broken into Snape's mind?

On Saturday morning, Harry was surprised to find that he was first in the Quidditch locker room. He thought that Ron, as captain, would have beaten him there. Harry hadn't seen him since the field trip. He had been avoiding meals and any interaction with his fellow Muggle Studies classmates. He was afraid that they would question him about the chaos in London.

Harry had just changed into his uniform when Ron came hurrying into the locker room, his bag draped over his shoulders and his broom in hand. Without saying a word, he took a seat across from Harry on the opposite bench and began unpacking his things.

"Late start?" Harry questioned. He thought that maybe Ron had overslept and missed breakfast, since Harry hadn't seen him in the Great Hall.

Ron glared at him. "Just finishing up on my extra essay. You know, for Muggle Studies? The one that our entire class has to do?" When Harry didn't make any acknowledgement, Ron swung his legs around to the other side of the bench so that he was facing Harry. "Because of _you_?"

"I... I don't know what you're talking about..."

"Don't play dumb with me," Ron snapped. "I know you did it, Harry. I _saw _you. Why should we all have to be punished to write this stupid essay?"

"It's just one paper," Harry replied between gritted teeth.

"On top of the loads of other stuff I have to do!" he exploded. "Or have you forgotten that I have one more class than you? I mean, I've got Herbology _and_ Potions, not to mention my responsibilities as a Prefect and Quidditch Captain!"

"You'd better watch it, Ron," Harry said, his voice hoarse. He didn't know how much more of Ron's bitching he could take. "You sound just as big-headed as Percy."

Ron's stare turned icy cold. "Don't you _dare_ compare me to that traitor."

"You sound like a traitor to me," Harry replied. "What are you going to do? Rat me out to Professor Avis? To the whole class?"

"I should," Ron said. "But I won't. Not because we're friends, but because it's for the good of the team. You've already missed enough practices as it is. If you're expelled, we'll have a hard time replacing you."

"Bloody hell, Ron! I told you! Snape made me choose. I wouldn't have been able to go on the field trip if I didn't miss practice..."

Ron held up his hands to silence him. "It's not me you have to answer to, Harry. It's the team. The only way to beat Slytherin is with a united front. If we're going to win we have to play like a team. How can we do that when our Seeker doesn't even show up for practice the night before the match?"

Though Ron was being a little harsh, Harry couldn't help but agree with him. But what was he supposed to do? He couldn't skip Occlumency. In the big picture, his lessons were more important than Quidditch. Dumbledore had even called him into his office to tell him how vital he was in fighting Voldemort. He owed it to Dumbledore to continue his training.

The atmosphere of the locker room was still uncomfortable as Harry quickly changed into his scarlet Quidditch robes. He was thankful when the rest of the team started to arrive so that he wouldn't have to make more small talk with Ron.

As the team huddled together for one final pep talk, Harry couldn't help noticing how odd it was to be one of the tallest people on the team. They looked up to him, the way he had looked up to Oliver and the twins and Angelina and Katie. Now he was a veteran. He was the next generation of Quidditch. The next era. And his best friend was leading him into battle.

Ron was looking quite pale. This season was different. Ron could no longer claim to be the beginner. This time he was supposed to be the leader. It was his butt on the line. He was the captain. For once, Harry was relieved that there was some weight lifted off his shoulders.

After a few words of encouragement, the Gryffindor team left the locker room and slowly made their way to the Quidditch Pitch. The roar of the crowd echoed in the distance. Harry could feel his raw nerves turning into excitement. It had been so long since he had done this. He missed nearly the entire season last year.

Madam Hooch called the teams to the center of the pitch and hastily shouted the rules. "Let's keep it clean. I don't want anything happening like last year." She eyed Harry and Malfoy with a narrow glare. She blew her whistle to signal the start of the game.

His veins pumping with adrenaline, Harry kicked off the ground along with the other players. Colin Creevey, who took Lee Jordan's place as announcer, sat proudly in the stands. "And they're off!" he shouted. "Madam Hooch has released the balls and the first game of the season has begun!"

Harry saw the Snitch for a split second before it took off into the skies. The sun was shining brightly, the hoops casting long autumn shadows on the grassy field. Harry squinted at his teammates below, dodging Bludgers and passing the Quaffle.

"Pritchardof Slytherin has the Quaffle – he's headed for the hoop. He passes it to Nott. Oh! It's intercepted by Ginny Weasley. Look out! Weasley narrowly escapes the Bludger hit by Goyle of Slytherin. Wealsey's headed towards the goal. She shoots, Bletchley blocks... but he's not fast enough! It's good! Gryffindor is on the board first with ten points."

The pitch erupted into cheer, except for the hisses from the Slytherins in the stands. Harry was just admiring Ginny's obvious skills as a chaser when Malfoy swooped up in front of him. "Proud of your little girlfriend, Potter? Heard she nearly took your spot on the team. Imagine, a _girl_ taking your position? How embarrassing."

"What's embarrassing is that you'd rather try to torment me than pay attention to the game, Malfoy," Harry spat back. He dove for the Gryffindor hoops as one of the Slytherin chasers sped towards the goal. Malfoy followed him, thinking he'd spotted the Snitch. Harry stopped in midair, then watched as Malfoy whizzed past. "Stupid git," he muttered.

But the distraction wasn't enough to deter the Slytherin Chaser, who easily threw the Quaffle through one of the hoops Ron was guarding. Harry cursed.

The Slytherin fans went crazy, chanting a similar verse to the heckle they had made up about Ron the year before. Ron blushed madly from his cheeks to his ears.

Harry sped over to Ron's side. "Don't pay attention to them!" he shouted. "Don't let them get to you again."

"Shut up, Harry," Ron muttered. "Get up there and do your job."

Slightly hurt, Harry searched the skies for the Snitch, and after no sign of it, he looked for Malfoy.

"Gryffindor has possession. Weasley has the Quaffle. Weasley passes to McDonald, McDonald to Weasley. Weasley passes it to Frobisher. Frobisher takes a hit. That's going to leave a mark! The Quaffle is loose! McDonald picks it up again. She's heading towards the Slytherin rings. Bletchleyblocks, but it's no good. Another goal for Gryffindor!"

The scoring continued well into the two next hours. Harry's legs were falling asleep on his broom. It had to be the longest Quidditch match he'd ever played. The points had been balanced at the beginning, but now Gryffindor was ahead by 160 points. Crabbe and Goyle barely had any fight left in them. They were weak and tired on their brooms. Harry had even caught Malfoy yawning only moments before.

He wished that the Snitch would just appear so that he could catch it. The fans had already lost their enthusiasm, and he'd seen some Hufflepuff girls trying to sneak back to the castle. At this rate, injuries would be more likely in a result of exhaustion on a broom than being beaten with a Bludger. Even Colin's voice was hoarse from all of the speaking. He had certainly lost his usual zest.

"Sloper hits the Bludger at Nott. Nott ducks. He heads for the goal. Goyle attempts a counterattack. His club misses the Bludger." Colin sighed. "I've read of Quidditch matches that went on for days before the Snitch appeared..."

McGonagall gave him a hard pat on the back and Colin sat up in his seat at attention, continuing his commentary.

Harry sadly watched as a moth fluttered its way across the field. It was so plain, yet unique. It had an intricate pattern of browns and beiges on its wings. He found his mind wandering onto other things, like his essay for Muggle Studies, along with his weeks of detention. He had to wonder if Ron was truly mad at him, or if he was just stressed because of the game. And what about Eva? Was she so angry with him she'd never want to see him again either?

Suddenly, the stands erupted into cheer. Panicking, Harry looked around for any sign of the Snitch. It must have appeared; that was the only reason they would cheer. But as he swooped down lower to the ground, he realized why.

Malfoy was standing on the grassy field, the golden Snitch fluttering in his fingertips.

Harry's heart crashed into his stomach. There was no way that Malfoy had beaten him to the Snitch. Nobody had ever caught the Snitch before him in a game that was fair. _Nobody_. Malfoy smirked at him, tossing the Snitch playfully into the air and catching it again, just as he had once seen his father do in one of Snape's old memories.

"Well, Potter. Looks like you've lost your touch."

Harry's anger and confusion fumed inside of him. "How...?" he began. But he was interrupted by Colin Creevey.

"Draco Malfoy catches the Snitch, but Gryffindor wins the match by only ten points." He sounded as though he wasn't sure he should celebrate or not. There was an eerie silence on the field now, as the rest of Harry's teammates flew down from their positions in the air. Ginny flashed Harry a sympathetic look, but Ron wouldn't meet his eyes.

_Now this,_ Harry thought, _this is an embarrassment_.

"You may have won the game, Potter," Malfoy said. "But we all know who the real winner is today." And with one last sneer, he pushed off the ground and began his ascent into the sky for a lap around the stadium, the golden Snitch clutched tightly in his fist.

Harry hung his head in defeat. Now Ron had a real reason to be truly mad at him.


	25. The Last Straw

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

**The Last Straw**

"What were you thinking, Harry? How could you have let him catch the Snitch like that? Did you even see it?" Ron didn't even give him time to respond. "Obviously not!" He threw his towel into his Quidditch locker.

"Lay off, Ron. We won, didn't we?" Ginny said.

"Don't stick up for me," Harry barked.

Offended, Ginny turned scowled at him and headed to her locker. "Fine. I won't."

"So what kind of excuses do you have this time, Harry?" Ron demanded. "A bewitched broom?"

"I don't know," Harry mumbled. "I don't know what the hell happened out there. I was distracted."

"Distracted? How could you be distracted? It's a game of Quidditch! You don't give up in the middle of it!"

"Don't lecture me about the rules of the game," Harry spat. "You only blocked, what, two goals and let the other slip past?"

"Cut it out, you two," Jack Sloper said suddenly. "This isn't helping. I think we should all just come to realize that Harry can't catch the Snitch _every_ time. I mean, he was bound to lose eventually."

"But to Malfoy?" Ron questioned. "Malfoy's got the speed of a turtle. He's as blind on the field as a bat. Not to mention he has the agility of South-African sloth."

Harry slammed his locker door shut. "I don't know how it happened."

"Maybe if you would have shown up for practice..." Ron began, but Harry shot him such a look that he quickly stopped talking.

"There has to be some other explanation. Maybe Malfoy bewitched the Snitch or something."

Harry draped his Quidditch bag over his shoulder and turned towards the door. "Jack's right," he announced sadly. "I was bound to lose sometime."

Harry was in a foul mood for the rest of the afternoon, and suspected he would feel that way for a good long time. Despite the fact that Malfoy had caught the Snitch, Gryffindor still won the game, so Harry had to muddle through the celebration in the Gryffindor common room. His Occlumency training was proving to be very useful. He tried to appear as cheerful as possible, but on the inside, he was ashamed of the game.

He could tell Ron felt the same way. He was prompted to give a speech at the party, which turned out to be quite convincing. However, when Harry met his eyes, he could tell that Ron was disappointed in him. His best friend's feelings were what shamed him the most.

That night was the first D.A. meeting, rescheduled from Harry's last minute trip to London with Nora. His nerves were on edge again. He had spent the few hours before the meeting in the library, gathering last minute ideas and avoiding the party back in the common room. Harry was beginning to regret scheduling the meeting on the same day as the Quidditch game. He didn't want to have to face his peers, let alone Cho.

But as always, time passed quickly when he was dreading something. Harry glanced at his watch and realized that if he didn't hurry he'd be late for the meeting. He hurried out of the library and up to the seventh floor. He looked for the portrait of Barnabus the Balmy teaching trolls to dance. Concentrating hard on the room he needed, he walked up and down the corridor three times. Suddenly, the door appeared, and he quickly went inside.

"Oh, Harry, we'd thought you'd forgotten," Hermione said breathlessly as he entered the room. It was decorated in usual meeting décor, complete with cushions and other items for magical practice. She had the list out on the table, which she and Ginny were going over. Ron was sulking in a corner.

"I'd never forget," Harry replied. "I was looking up some last minute things in the library."

"You mean you weren't hiding?" Ron questioned. Hermione and Ginny both glared at him.

Harry decided to ignore his comment. "I thought we would start out with a review from last year – some defensive spells. And I'd like to see how everyone's doing with their Patronuses."

"Mine is excellent," Colin Creevey said as he and his brother, Dennis entered the room. "I've been practicing since we met at Hogsmeade."

"Mine is coming along," Dennis added. "It's a Plimpy, but I can't seem to get the legs right."

Harry grinned. He was beginning to feel much better. Teaching D.A. could be a bit nerve-wracking, but it was a lot of fun. He always felt like he was accomplishing something good. Something that would prepare everyone for the battle to come.

As more people arrived, Harry was beginning to feel more at ease. Despite his own adventures, this year had been relatively uneventful for everyone. There was no Triwizard Tournament, no Umbridge lurking around every corner. People were laughing and having a good time, happy to see one another. Cho was even greeted with a smile when she arrived.

The meeting went rather smoothly. After separating into pairs, Harry began instructing his eighteen students. They started out with a banishing charm, using the cushions for comfort. Next, they worked on a silencing charm. Professor Flitwick had spent quite some time on it earlier in the semester, and Harry wanted to review it with them. It had been of some use to Hermione when they were battling in the Department of Mysteries at the end of last year.

For the final lesson, he wanted to see everyone's Patronus. He wished he could produce his own for the demonstration, but he just didn't have the heart. He was afraid he didn't have enough happy thoughts left. Ron was barely speaking to him, he had a whole two week's worth of Muggle Studies detention, and he had to find time for Occlumency. Malfoy had caught the Snitch before him and he had been embarrassed in front of the entire school. Not to mention that Eva was so angry with him she would probably never speak to him again.

But somehow, even picturing her pissed off at him seemed bring a smile to his face. She was beautiful when she was angry.

He had Ron and Hermione demonstrate the charm. The Harry had the rest of the group perform in pairs, and then the two of them sent them in groups of four back to their common rooms with the help of the Marauder's Map. Oddly enough, the last pair was Seamus and Cho. Cho produced her swan, and Harry couldn't even deny that it was gorgeous. Elegant and smooth, just like its owner.

"Harry," Cho said quietly, "could I talk to you for a minute? Alone?"

Harry felt his heart beat rise inside his chest. "Er... sure."

She led him over to a secluded corner of the room, away from the scrutiny of Ron, Hermione, and Seamus. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light from the chandelier overhead. "I don't know how you'll feel about this, but both Marietta and Michael want to know if they can come back to D.A."

"How do they even know that it still exists?" Harry questioned accusingly. "Did you _tell_ them we were still having meetings?"

"No," she snapped, offended. "They've still got their coins. They both knew the meeting was tonight."

He frowned. Hermione was supposed to take care of that. He glanced over at her by the doorway, but she and Ron were lost in each other's eyes. Perhaps she was a bit distracted lately.

"Just think about it," Cho said. "Marietta's learned her lesson. She knows what side is right. And Michael... well, he's not that bad."

Harry grunted. "From what I hear, you think he's just fine."

"We're not a couple anymore," Cho replied, brushing her hair behind her ear nonchalantly. "We're just friends."

"I don't care about that," Harry said curtly.

Cho smiled. "Are you sure?"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he glared at her. If there was anything that he was certain of, it was that Cho was not going to take him on another one of her emotional roller-coaster relationships. "_Positive_."

She took a step back. "I...I see." It was clear that she got the message. "Well, just think about it." She turned around, her hair and hips bouncing behind her, and left with the last group of Ravenclaws.

Harry ran his hands over his face and through his hair. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He sighed and returned to his lesson. It was apparent that Seamus, who had never had much practice, was struggling with his own Patronus.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" Seamus shouted. A thin, wispy cloud came out of the tip of his wand, but it made no shape. He sighed. "It's no use. I don't even know what mine is, only that it's hairy."

"You just... you need to think of something that makes you happy."

"I am," Seamus replied. "It's just not good enough."

Harry could understand how he felt. "There's got to be something."

"Wait, I've got it," he said suddenly. "Did I tell you that Eva wrote back to me?"

"No," Harry replied, shaking his head.

He grinned. "_Expecto Patronum_!" With a flick of his wand, the silver phantom appeared, and it was quite hairy. It was almost human form – no, Harry realized, it was an ape. But it wasn't clumsy or wild. It had long, silky hair and dark eyes.

"I know what it is!" Seams cried. "It's a Demiguise! No wonder I couldn't see it before. They're practically invisible. Their coat makes excellent invisibility cloaks."

Harry smiled. "Brilliant." He paused, trying to sound as casual as possible. "So how is Eva?"

"She's all right," Seamus replied. "Not too fond of you anymore, though."

Harry felt his heart sink into his gut. He didn't know why he should be surprised. Of course she was still angry with him.

Hermione cleared her throat from the doorway. "We need to get out of here."

Ron nodded in agreement. "Some of us have extra homework."

Harry lay in his bed that night for what felt like endless hours. He had been the first one to bed after the D.A. meeting, yet he still had not fallen asleep before the moon reached its highest peak in the sky. Winter was on its way, and the northern wind was loudly beating against the windows of the dormitory.

Or was it just Neville's snoring?

Harry couldn't be sure as he tossed and turned, entangling his legs in his bed sheets. Wide awake and uncomfortable, he knew it was no use trying to get any sleep that night. He felt exhausted, yet sleep would not come to him.

He was worrying about so many things. Ron had been so angry with him ever since the field trip, and the game earlier that day only made it ten times worse. He had also wasted a few thoughts wondering about Marietta Edgecombe and Michael Corner and whether he should let them come back to D.A. He would need to discuss it with Hermione and Ron – if he would ever speak to Harry again.

Harry was dreading the heckling that was bound to come from Malfoy on Monday in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Losing to him was something that Harry didn't even get a chance to prepare for.

And for some reason, whenever he finally did drift off to sleep a little, in the space between his consciousness and his dreaming, he would see the image of his father, pleading with him. "_If I fail, she's all yours. You have my word_." And then an out-thrust hand. Harry's own reaching to shake it.

The more he thought about it, the more confused he was. He was beginning to regret every trying to use Legilmency on Snape. He didn't know what had ever possessed him to use that incantation. Clearly, it was a mistake.

With the image of his father so fresh in his mind, Harry couldn't help feeling lonely. It was times like these he wished he could talk to Sirius. He thought of the pieces of the broken mirror carefully packed into a corner of his trunk. If only he could look into it and see Sirius. If only he could hear his godfather's voice one last time.

Harry hadn't realized how close he was to crying until he felt a single tear roll down his cheek to his lips. The salty taste startled him, and he quickly wiped it away. Embarrassed and looking for the distraction, he decided to check in on Remus.

When he pulled the Moon Guide out of his pocket, it was very dark, but Harry knew from his calendar that the full moon wasn't until the next night. He wondered if Remus was reading again. Or perhaps he was actually asleep.

He put the dark circle up to his eye, and whispered, "_I solemnly swear I only want to watch_." As he peered inside the Moon Guide, the spectacle opened his vision to a room that looked vaguely familiar. There was a large picture window on one side of the room and blankets spread out upon the floor. Remus was perched in front of a fireplace, staring intently at a picture on the mantle. He had a glass of liquor in his hand and every few seconds he would take a sip. His eyes were red. Harry didn't know if he should be watching. It looked as though Remus was drunk.

There was a knock on the door and Remus sadly put his glass down on the mantelpiece. He was dressed in his shabby clothes, looking as pale as ever before the full moon. He walked over to the entrance and pulled the door open, the breeze disturbing the cozy fire.

"I should have known you'd come."

"I didn't want you to be alone." The cloaked figure stepped inside, uninvited, and pulled her cape off.

Harry gasped. It was Tonks, in her normal form, not some McGonagall look-a-like. She went over to the mantle, took down the glass, and sniffed it. She took a quick drink. Harry gasped as she threw it on the fire. "Drowning your sorrows, I see."

Remus smiled. "I didn't even start yet. You're just in time. Fancy a drink?"

"I didn't come here for a drink."

"Then what _did_ you come here for?" Remus demanded. "I've said all that needs to be said."

"But I haven't," Tonks replied angrily. "You can't expect to write me some letter filled with excuses and just leave things the way they are, can you?"

"I don't know what I expect anymore." Remus groaned as he sat down in his armchair. "I'm old, Tonks. Too old."

"That's the Firewhiskey talking." She plopped down on the ottoman across from him and reached out for his weathered hands. "You're cold," she said, and began rubbing his fingers in her palms.

"I'm not cold," he muttered. "I'm old."

"Stop that nonsense."

"It's not nonsense!" Remus ripped his hand away from hers and stood up from the chair. "Tonks, I don't know what you're playing at here, but it's not going to work. You can't just waltz in here – when I'm drunk and weak – and try to seduce me on a night like tonight." He paced around the room, the flames from the fireplace reflecting the wildness in his eyes.

"Well, you can't expect me to sit around in my office knowing that you're holed up here all alone on a night like tonight!" Tonks exploded.

_What was so special about tonight?_ Harry wondered.

"I'm an old man," Remus said again. But this time, there was such sorrow in his voice that Harry barely recognized it. "You're the youngest Auror in Britain, Tonks. You don't need an old man like me around."

Tonks stood up walked over to him, her eyes clouded with concern. She wrapped both arms around his waist and hugged him closely, embracing him. "It doesn't matter how old you are, Remus. I'm still going to love you."

Remus frowned, but held her tightly against his chest for a few moments. "We can't do this," he said again. Tonks pulled away and stared at him incredulously. "I won't hurt you. Not again."

"And you won't," Tonks replied. "Remus, it was different before. I'm involved now. I'm in this just as deep as you are. I was the one who captured _her_!" she exploded. "I put her back in Azkaban!"

"You think she'll just stay there?" he demanded. "Azkaban is nothing without the Dementors." He walked over to the fireplace mantle, then moved the picture closer into the light, straightening it. Harry realized what the photograph was. It must have been taken before he was born, and it was of the Marauders. Remus, Sirius, Wormtail, and his father all sat together in the photograph, huddled around a game of Wizard's Chess. "Do you really think that Bellatrix will waste away in Azkaban? You know she's stronger than that. Voldemort will rescue her. He will take her back at any cost."

"That's only more reason to stop this nonsense!" Tonks exploded. "We're stronger if we're together, not if we're apart."

"I used to believe in strength in unity," Remus continued sadly. "There used to be four of us," Remus continued. "First we lost James. Now Sirius. Peter left us some time ago. I could be next. I'll not let you bury me as I have buried them."

"Remus, that was different. Peter was the culprit of their demise."

"No. He wasn't. Voldemort was. If only I could have stopped him. If only I could have done something..."

"You can't blame yourself for the past," Tonks hissed. "You know it's not your fault."

"I _do_ know that today is Sirius's birthday, and that he should be here celebrating with James and Lily and Harry, not in some undead dimension of voices. I know that Voldemort has been playing with us for far too long, and that the time for the final battle is drawing nearer with each day. I won't let you get involved. I don't care what it takes. I'll do everything I can to protect the people I love."

Harry suddenly felt sickened inside. _Sirius's birthday_. It was his godfather's birthday and he didn't even know it. And all Remus could talk about was how he was next. How he wouldn't allow himself to get close to the woman he loved because he was too afraid he would break her heart in death.

He yanked the Moon Guide away from his eye, and whispered hoarsely, "_I have seen all there is to be seen._"

His own bed suddenly felt foreign to him. Hogwarts, his safe haven and home for the past six years, now made him feel as though the walls were closing in on him. Every corner he looked in reminded him of his battles with Voldemort. Of the dead. Of Cedric. Of Sirius. How many more people would have to die? How many more nights would he wake up to the sound of his mother's screaming? To a voice beyond on a veil? To the cackling of Bellatrix Lestrange?

As his anger boiled inside of him, he felt he would explode if he didn't get out of the common room. If he didn't get away from all of his memories and nightmares and visions. Watching Remus had been the last straw. He needed to talk to someone. He needed to get away. But where could he go? Who could he go to?

And the answer came to him. There was only one place he could go. There was only one person who would listen to him – he hoped.

Eva.


	26. Overcome

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

**Overcome**

Somehow, Harry had stumbled through the darkness and escaped unseen from Hogwarts under the camouflage of his invisibility cloak, with the aide of the Marauder's Map. If the journey had been long, he didn't notice it. All he could think of was getting to Eva. If he could just make it to her, somehow everything would be okay.

When he finally made it to Hogsmeade, it was well past midnight, and the Hog's Head was crowded with the darkest of patrons. Eva was behind the bar cleaning up when he burst in the door and walked straight up the stairs to her bedroom. He had no way to tell her that he was there. No way to catch her attention. He couldn't take the cloak off. But the rage inside of him wouldn't hold off for much longer.

He plopped down in front of her doorway, briefly wondering if he had completely lost his mind. It had been a compulsive decision to see her. He didn't even know if she would listen. But somehow he knew it would be all right. He knew she would make it that way.

No longer caring whether he was spotted or not, he pulled off the invisibility cloak and tried to catch his breath, but it was next to impossible. His mind was moving at a thousand miles a minute, his heart pounding in his chest as though he were on his deathbed.

He was going to explode.

The sound of footsteps drew nearer as he turned to see Eva walking up the stairs. She was carrying a broom. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her eyes confused and concerned. Eva was weary, but she smiled at him.

And somehow, that smile melted all of the anger, all of the absolute horror inside of him, and a single tear fell from his eye and slithered down his cheek behind his glasses.

"Harry, are you all right? What's the matter?" she asked, leaning the broom against the wall and crouching down so that she was eye-level with him. "Is it Nora?"

Harry shook his head because it was too hard to speak.

"No?" she replied. "What is it?"

Harry took a deep breath. "It's me."

He reached forward, his arms clutching Eva tightly, and pulled her to him. A steady stream of tears rolled down his cheeks and pooled on her shoulder. Harry was expecting her to pull away, but instead she embraced him, holding him in her arms. And for the first time since his birthday, he felt the warmth of being close to someone. He felt validated. Loved.

All of the rage he had felt for so long, all the anger, the frustration, the mourning, and the loss came pouring out of him. He was trembling – not with fury, but with sadness. He was overcome with such emotion that he broke down in her arms.

He didn't know how long she held him. He knew he should be embarrassed about his tears, but somehow, he didn't have any shame left. He didn't bother to choke back his sobs but instead deeply inhaled to catch his breath, her scent overwhelming him. There was comfort in her arms.

She shifted her legs and kneeled under his weight, and Harry pulled away, realizing that he was practically suffocating her. "I'm sorry," he whispered, wiping his eyes behind his glasses.

"It's all right," she whispered back. Her eyes were kind and still full of concern, and she hadn't moved from her kneeling position. He could see that she was slightly uncomfortable. "I would ask if you're okay," Eva said quietly, "but I can see that you're not."

Harry didn't know where to start or what he should say. "Today… today was my godfather's birthday." Realizing that this wasn't explanation enough, he tried to continue. He shifted his gaze away from her. "It was a bad day."

The corner of her mouth curved into a tiny, reassuring smile. She stood up and brushed the dust off her knees from the dirty floor. She held out her hand to him. "Let's go inside."

Harry glanced at the floor where he had hidden the Marauder's Map beneath the invisibility cloak. It wasn't safe to leave it in the hallway. He took Eva's hand and stood up, then took the risk and leaned over to pick up the cloak and the map.

Eva glanced at the items in his grip, but didn't question him as she led Harry inside her room. She gestured for him to sit down on her bed as she quickly lit some candles. Harry would have preferred to stay in the darkness with only the moonlight shining in through the window. He was stuck in silence, searching for the words to explain himself and his state of mind.

Eva sat down next to him on the bed. He could feel the warmth of her body against his bare arms and realized that he was cold. Realized it was the middle of the night. Realized that he was once again on a bed with a girl.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again. "I… I didn't know where to go." He felt the familiar tightness in his chest, a lump in the back of his throat. He struggled to hold his tears back. "I…"

He couldn't find the strength to continue. Suddenly, Eva reached out and took his hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, and squeezed them tightly. The warmth from her hands traveled from his fingertips to the rest of his body. Words, emotions, everything he had been keeping inside came out. He could hear his voice saying everything that was on his mind, but he felt far away. The words came out faster than he could consciously hold back. He talked of the sadness of Sirius's death, the horrible dreams, the pressure from Snape, Remus's worries, the envy he felt towards his best friend, the loss of Mr. Weasley's trust, and even losing to Malfoy. He didn't know how long he spoke for, but Eva listened silently, occasionally squeezing his hand when he choked up.

When the tears had stopped and his voice was hoarse from talking, Eva reached in her nightstand and pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Harry. Harry wiped his face, which was now blushing with embarrassment, and took a deep breath.

"Is that all that's bothering you?" Eva whispered. She gave a small, apologetic smile. She reached her arm around him, the way she had when he'd gotten the bloody nose, and rubbed his back. The warmth from her fingertips made his spine tingle.

Harry managed a smile. He didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry."

"No, I am," Eva said defiantly. "Perhaps I've been a bit too harsh on you. I didn't realize… I didn't know how terrible things were."

"I deserved it," Harry replied. "I got you fired."

"Aye, it was actually a blessing in disguise. I needed a break." She grinned. "And from the sounds of it, you could use one too."

Harry, feeling much more comfortable, handed the handkerchief back to Eva. "Yes, I suppose I could. I never thought I would need a break from Hogwarts. Hogwarts has always been the one place where I felt safe. The one place that felt like home."

"Sometimes it's difficult to feel safe anywhere," Eva said. But when he met her eyes, he got the distinct impression that she was talking from her own personal experience – not his current predicament. She stopped rubbing his back and pulled away from him, as if she were suddenly very conscious of her closeness to him.

"Do… do you mind if I stay for a little while?" Harry asked gently.

Eva shook her head. "I think I'd rather enjoy the company. I'll light a fire."

"Here, I'll help," Harry offered, getting up from the bed.

Eva quickly stood up and pushed him back down. "I don't need any help, Harry," she said, a little too forcefully, and a little too reminiscent of the chaos at the medieval dinner. "I've got it. You just sit there and relax." Harry watched as found some matches and lit some kindling in the fireplace. She also lit the candles that Nora had sent her, which were nearly burned down to their bases. "I'll run down to the pub and get some drinks," she added, before Harry could stop her.

Harry sat silently on her bed, listening to the crackling fire. In the light, he could see that her room a little more organized than before. There were no pictures lying around and her bed was made. Her desk still had Muggle newspaper clippings scattered all over it. His curiosity getting the better of him, Harry stood up and peered over the tabletop. A book called _Everything Muggles Should Know About the Wizarding World and Why We Shouldn't Tell Them _had a bookmark pinched inside about halfway through it. There was also a letter from Nora with some kind of list. Eva had already checked off a few of the items. Some were candy, others were magical jokes, and she'd listed a set of Gobstones. The last two items were a broom and an owl. Beneath it, in Eva's handwriting, was "Scrapbook" with a checkmark after it.

Harry realized that this must have been Nora's Christmas list. Did Eva's entire life revolve around her sister? Didn't she have a life of her own? Didn't she spend a knut on herself now and then?

He heard footsteps coming up from the pub and hurried back over to the bed. Eva appeared with a tray that had two bottles of Butterbeer and some sandwiches on it. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think that Abe knew you were here." She sat down on the opposite end of the bed and placed the tray over the blankets.

Harry's heart jumped into his throat. Had he been spotted? "Who's Abe?"

"The bartender," Eva replied, handing him a bottle. "When I went down there, he already had two bottles waiting for me. And he was the one who told me that the extra room up here needed cleaning. Otherwise, you could have been waiting outside my door all night. Just how did you get here anyway?"

Harry gulped. "Well…" He took a swig of his Butterbeer, trying to prolong his answer. Could he trust her with the truth? His heart was beating rapidly in his chest. He didn't know how many more surprises he could take tonight. "There's a secret passageway from Hogwarts into the cellar of Honeydukes. Nobody really knows about it except for a select few of us. And, well, to get from Honeydukes to here, I have my father's invisibility cloak."

"Really?" Eva cried. Harry was glad to see she was more excited about the cloak than the fact that he'd been breaking the rules. "I just read about those. Fascinating objects, you know. Is that what you were holding when you came in?"

Harry nodded. The Marauder's Map was still hidden beneath the cloak, so he would get out of having to explain that particular magical device. "I wonder if he – if Abe – can see through it."

"Can wizards really do that?" Eva questioned.

Harry nodded. "It's not unheard of. One of my old professors had a magical eye that could see everything. And I mean _everything_."

"Tell me more about Hogwarts," Eva said, taking half of a sandwich and handing the other half to Harry. "Nora writes pages and pages about the people and her classes, but I'd like to know more about the school itself. Did Dumbledore start it?"

"No. The school was founded over a thousand years ago by four of the greatest wizards in the world." Harry grinned. He could hear his professors' voices in his own. Perhaps he would make a good teacher. "They were Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. Our four houses are named after them."

"Oh, right," Eva said between mouthfuls. "Nora mentioned something about that after she'd been sorted. She was really glad that she was sorted into Gryffindor. Seamus is in that house. I imagine you are too."

"How'd you guess?" Harry joked.

"Because of your courage," she said simply.

Harry tried desperately not to blush. "Well, from what I understand, courage is not something lacking in Finnigan women."

She smirked. "Aye, not in the women, that's for sure. The men – now that's a different story."

Harry finished off his sandwich, and then took another drink of his Butterbeer to muster up some of his Gryffindor courage to ask the question pressing in his mind. He'd asked both Nora and Seamus, but neither one gave him any sort of answer. "Eva, why don't you and your uncle get along?"

Eva stopped eating and looked at him very seriously. "Why don't you ask Seamus? I'm sure he'd love to tell you."

"I did," Harry admitted, feeling guilty for his snooping. "He said it wasn't his place to tell me."

"Did he now?" She seemed surprised. She sighed heavily and put the crusts of her sandwich back on the plate. "Me uncle's old-fashioned. Growing up, me mum would always get into trouble. Uncle Ned would always get her out of it. He warned her that one day, she was going to shame the family's name and then he'd turn his back on her. She didn't believe him, of course. After all, they were brother and sister. They were all each other had in the world," Eva added.

"But then, me mum got pregnant with me. Ned said it was the last straw. He threw her out on the streets to survive on her own. She only had the clothes on her back and the change in her purse." Eva's eyes burned with fury. "He thought he would teach her a lesson. But instead, mum got a job in a restaurant and waited tables with measly tips until the day I was born. She learned to take care of herself and a child before Uncle Ned ever talked to her again. By that time, he was married, and already had a family of his own. But when my mom had a one-night-stand with some tourist who left her pregnant again and not even an address to contact him with, he was dealing with his own family struggles and wanted nothing to do with her. Again."

"What family struggles?" Harry questioned.

"He'd just found out that his wife was a practicing witch, and that Seamus's older brother, Connell, was accepted to Hogwarts. He called me mum…" Her voice trailed off. "He said terrible things about her. About me. About Nora, even though she wasn't even born yet. I can still remember them. And from then on mum said we'd have nothing to do with him or his family. He broke her heart twice and that was enough to last a lifetime." He had never heard a voice more bitter. "After she died, he tried to get Nora and me to come live with his family, but I wouldn't hear of it. I nearly was sixteen and I already knew how to take care of us. I had already dropped out of school. I didn't need his help – until Nora got her letter."

"How long ago was that?" Harry asked, afraid that Eva would stop talking. He'd never been able to open her up before. Each time they met it seemed to be under dramatic circumstances.

"What? When Nora got her letter?"

Harry shook his head. "When did your mum die?"

"It will be two years ago this Christmas Eve," she said softly.

Harry realized that these questions were much more personal than the ones about her uncle. She would rather be angry than mournful. And no wonder she was trying to make Christmas perfect for Nora; it was the anniversary of her mother's death. But who was there to make Christmas perfect for Eva?

He could see that she was struggling inside. He reached out and gently took her hand, but she pulled away. "Maybe you should go," she suggested.

"Maybe," he replied. But inside, he was asking himself the real reason why. He could see she was still struggling with her mother's death. Clearly, she wasn't ready to discuss it, and he respected that. He knew it took a long time to talk about the death of loved one.

Harry got up from the bed and glanced out the bedroom window. "It's nearly daybreak. I'd better get back to Hogwarts before someone discovers I'm missing." He would have gladly stayed all night and into the next day, but he didn't want to overstep his welcome. He picked up his invisibility cloak from the floor where he'd dropped it, and Eva got up to say goodbye. "Thank you, Eva. I really owe you."

She shook her head. "You don't owe me anything. What are friends for?"

Harry grinned broadly. _Friends._ Was that good enough for him? Somehow he found himself wanting more. He lingered in her doorway until she was standing directly in front of him. "Do you mind if I stop by again sometime?"

"As long as you don't get into anymore trouble," Eva said, "I don't see why not."

"And if you need anything, I'll be glad to help you out in any way." He thought back to Nora's long Christmas list on her desk. "If you need money…"

Eva crossed her arms over her chest, frowning. "I didn't ask for your help."

"I know you didn't ask. I'm offering."

"Well, stop offering!" she exploded. "I don't need it. Listen, I've been taking care of Nora for two years _alone_. I've been _alone_ for all of this time. I don't need your help and I certainly don't need your money! It's insulting that you keep offering it to me!"

Harry held up his hands in a sign of surrender. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Eva cracked a smile and leaned in closer to him. Her hair was so close to him it brushed against his shoulder. He could smell her perfume and the smoke from the pub and Butterbeer they'd just drank.

"You know, Harry," she said. "You don't have to be so noble all of the time."

And as she leaned in closer, Harry felt her warm breath against his cheek. Sparks tingle down the back of his spine, the hair on the back of his neck standing on edge. She gently kissed his cheek with her soft lips.

"Some girls like rebels," she whispered. "Good night." She smiled innocently and quietly closed the door.


	27. An Escape from Azkaban

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

**An Escape from Azkaban**

"Good night." Harry found his voice sometime after she had closed the closed the door. Blushing furiously and grinning like an idiot, he quickly pulled the invisibility cloak over his head and tiptoed down the stairs to the pub.

He wondered how she could affect him like that. How she could turn such a terrible day into a happy ending. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life, but she didn't take advantage of the situation. She was there for him. Just as friends should be.

_Friends_. The label bothered Harry. He was friends with Ron, with Hermione. He had a lot of friends. He wanted to be more to her. Perhaps… perhaps he ought to ask her on a date. He could sneak out of the castle after his two weeks of detention were over and they could have dinner somewhere. But where? He would be recognized for sure.

He yawned as he crept down into the Honeydukes cellar. Both emotionally and physically exhausted, he wanted nothing more than to climb into his four-poster and sleep until dinner. He was lucky that it was Sunday and he didn't have to attend any classes.

Alone. Eva's voice echoed in his head. She really had been alone for a long time. Harry somehow managed to do the math in his head from what she had told him about her mother's death. That put her at seventeen, eighteen years old at the most. She looked older than that, but he assumed it was because she was forced to grow up so fast.

He knew all too well how that could affect someone.

Harry shivered as he broke into a jog in the dark tunnel. It stretched on for ages, but tonight it seemed to be taking so much longer to find the exit. He slowed to catch his breath, but tripped over a loose rock and fell headfirst to the hard ground. Harry's breath caught in his chest, the wind knocked out of him, and as he tried to catch his breath, the first dizzy spell hit him.

_Chaos_. There was pandemonium everywhere. He could sense it when he flicked his tongue into the open air. Feet running. Shouting. Keys unlocking. Gates opening. And fear. Lots of fear. The stench of fear was so clear he could hardly smell anything else. As he slithered upon the stone floor he could sense she was close. He could feel the vibrations of her laughter as though he were slithering along her neck, feeling her heartbeat.

_It will not be much longer._

He could hear her laughing now. The final gate unlocked and she stepped out into the open air. She took a deep breath and stepped towards him. She looked much healthier than their last escape, her heavy-lidded eyes wide and black hair shining in the sunrise.

"What took you so long?" she questioned, then leaned over and picked him up. He coiled around her boney wrist and slithered up her arm until he was secure around her neck. He had a better view of the anarchy around him. Some foolish guards hid in the cells that once held prisoners. The apparition ban on the fortress that kept its captives from escaping would now be the death of their most loyal employees.

_Kill them. Kill them all._

She grinned. She took a step forward, but he coiled around her neck, choking her, stopping her.

_They will take care of them._ He watched as the dark figures came out of their cells and advanced on the last of the guards, trembling in fear. One, with long pale hair, raised his wand and began the incantation that would end the terror.

And as the first life was snuffed out in a flash of green, she laughed. "Yes, Master. I will save my strength for _her_."

The cackling echoed in Harry's mind. Horrible, evil screeching exploded in his ear. His scar felt odd. Tender. Harry reached up to touch his forehead, but suddenly felt two hands close around his wrists. Someone was calling his name. Someone was shaking him.

"Harry! Harry!"

His eyes flew open and he sat up on the cold floor, nearly knocking the woman out of the way. Harry's wrists were abandoned. "_Lumos_!" she called into the darkness.

When his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw he was only feet away from the entrance into Hogwarts. The hole in the hump of the witch was open, and candlelight from the hallway was shining on the ground.

"Tonks?" Harry questioned.

Professor Leurre sat beside him, looking more like a concerned Tonks than a stern doppelganger of McGonagall. "Harry, are you all right?"

"I think so. What are you doing here?" Harry took a deep breath and reached up to touch his scar. Pins and needles shot through his forehead. It wasn't painful, just eerie. And suddenly, he remembered. He grabbed Tonks by the shoulders. "They're free," he said. "She's free."

"Who? C'mon Harry, we need to get you to the Hospital Wing."

"She coming for you," Harry whispered.

Tonks stopped in her tracks. "You're sure?"

Harry nodded. "I know it." He tried to stand up, but he must have twisted his ankle when he fell. He glanced at the ground and saw the corner of the Marauder's Map sticking out beneath the invisibility cloak. The items would have to remain there until he could sneak back and get them. Tonks quickly pulled him up and draped his arm across her shoulders. She didn't stagger under his weight.

They slowly made their way to the back side of the statue. Tonks went through first, then helped Harry. "Lean on me," she said. Harry did, and she steered him towards the left.

"The Hospital Wing is the other way," Harry said, his teeth clenched as he tried to walk on his ankle.

Tonks shook her head. "You had a vision, didn't you? We should go to Dumbledore's office first. I imagine he's waiting."

Harry limped along the third floor hallway until they took the stairs down to the second level where the statue of the gargoyle was located. By that time, some of the pain in Harry's ankle had subsided, and he was grateful for the relief.

His mind was racing as Tonks said the password to get inside. Unlike his previous visions, he could vividly remember each detail as though he were really there. He could still feel Bellatrix's soft, pale skin and her heartbeat reverberate against his body. He shivered.

"All right, Harry?" Tonks questioned.

He didn't know.

When they entered his office, Dumbledore was already awake, looking very concerned as he sat behind his enormous claw-footed desk. He was wearing a dressing robe, and his long white beard was gathered together at the base of his chin to keep it from tangling while he slept.

"Sit down, Harry." It was a command. "We will wait for the others to arrive."

So many questions were reeling in Harry's mind. How did Tonks know where he was? How did Dumbledore even know what was going on? Was there some sort of surveillance on him that he didn't know about? How else could they have found him?

Harry was afraid to look Dumbledore in the eye. He wondered who they were waiting for. The sunrise was already spilling through the window in Dumbledore's office when McGonagall and Snape hurried through the door and stood at the headmaster's side.

He understood why McGonagall was there – to hand out the punishment, of course. It was a rule that only the head of each house could decide on the punishment of her students. However, Snape's presence was a mystery to him. Snape appeared to have been awake. He was not dressed in any sort of night clothes. Perhaps he slept in the same tattered black robes that he wore during the day. It wouldn't surprise Harry if he did. At least it would account for his greasiness.

When he met Snape's eyes, Harry could sense he was rather apprehensive about the whole situation. Maybe through his spying, he had been aware of the plans of the breakout in Azkaban.

Dumbledore inhaled sharply, then folded his long fingers together and set them down on his desk. He started at Harry with his twinkling, yet fierce, blue eyes. "Harry, I know that tonight has been quite an adventure for you. I know that there are endless questions in your mind. However, we need you to answer our questions before we can answer any of yours. You must tell us what you saw."

Harry gulped. He had gotten quite used to recording any of his dreams in the Diary Dupuliquer. It was a lot different trying to recall broken images to write on a page than telling them to ears that were anxious to hear. But it felt different to him this time. This time he didn't see broken images. He could recall everything about the vision in detail. It had been clearer than the first vision he'd had of the attack on Mr. Weasley last year.

"I remember," he began, "I remember the whole thing. I was there. I was at Azkaban. I've never seen the fortress before, but I know that's where I was. I was the serpent. I was that damned snake – Voldemort's pet."

Harry glanced up. Snape winced at the sound of his name. He continued with a renewed sense of distress. "There was death everywhere. I could sense it. I could smell it. And then I could hear _her_ laughing."

"Who?" Dumbledore questioned, as though he already knew the answer.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry spat. Her name caused fury to grow inside of him. Some of the anger and pain that had vanished after talking to Eva came back to him. "She came over and picked me up and I coiled all around her neck so that I could feel her heartbeat."

McGonagall and Tonks exchanged worried glances. Harry pretended not to notice. "I could communicate with her. She would talk to me and we could understand each other. I said for her to kill them all. No, I said for the others to kill them all. I told her to safe her strength."

"Others?" Snape interrupted. Dumbledore held up a hand to silence him.

"She said she was going to save her strength for _her_." Harry tried not to look at Tonks. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to know that she was the one who had put Bellatrix back in Azkaban over the summer. He only knew she was the one because he'd been spying on her and Remus earlier that night. "And then someone else came forward to do the killing. It was Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy."

If it was possible, Snape's face somehow grew even paler. He turned to look at Dumbledore, but the headmaster was still patiently studying Harry. "And how did it end, Harry? Did he sense you?"

Harry thought back to when he had awakened from the vision. It had all happened so fast, it was a little fuzzy. First Malfoy killed, and then he could feel Tonks's hands wrapped around his wrists as he reached for his scar. "No… No, he didn't know I was there. The only reason I woke up from the vision was because Tonks was shaking me."

All eyes were on Tonks as she looked sheepishly to the floor. "I guess my cover's been blown," she said quietly. "I found Harry on the floor. He was thrashing around. I didn't know what to do."

"It's fine," Dumbledore said. "You did the right thing, Tonks." He took a deep breath and sat up in his chair. "Please escort Harry to the Hospital Wing, where he is to spend the rest of the day sleeping. He has had a very long day and an even longer night." Dumbledore peered over the desk at him with suspicious eyes. "I'm afraid your questions will have to wait for another day, Harry."

Harry nodded. That meant his punishment would have to wait for another day. "Yes, sir." He stood gingerly on his feet and slowly made his way to the door with Tonks's help. Sleep had never sounded so good to him.

"Minerva, kindly wake Mr. Fudge and alert the Ministry that Azkaban Fortress has been under attack and the captured Death Eaters have broken free." McGonagall nodded and quickly left Dumbledore's office.

Harry expected to overhear Dumbledore give some instructions to Snape, but just as Tonks shut the door, he heard Dumbledore's powerful voice. "You and I have much to discuss, Severus."

Harry slept until well past noon that day. When he finally woke up Madam Pomfrey was at lunch. It seemed that the potion she'd given him for his ankle had worked wonders, and he was back to normal. He quickly got up from the bed and made his way from the deserted hospital wing back to Gryffindor Tower.

As he climbed the stairs, he couldn't help but notice how eerie Hogwarts felt. Was it because he had finally let go of all the emotions he'd been holding inside? Was it because it was hard to feel at home there anymore? Was it just him?

But even the Fat Lady was humble. "Billywig bile," Harry mumbled. The portrait opened and Harry stepped inside.

The common room was quite full and all eyes were on Harry as he quickly walked toward the boy's dormitory. However, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Seamus were sharing a table and Hermione was on her feet to greet him in a flash.

"Harry! Where have you been? We've been so worried!"

"Worried?" Harry questioned.

"When we couldn't find you this morning, we just assumed the worst. Especially after what happened."

"What happened?"

Ginny held up a copy of _The_ _Daily Prophet_. There was a picture of Azkaban Fortress on the front page. "The Azkaban Breakout."

"Oh, right." Harry cleared his throat.

"You mean you didn't hear about it?" Seamus questioned.

"I did more than that," Harry muttered. He sighed, feeling his exhaustion returning. Seamus raised an eyebrow at him, confused. "I… I was just… I had an early morning Remedial Potions lesson."

"Snape never gives you a break, does he?" Seamus laughed.

"No," Harry said. "He certainly doesn't. I'm going to go up and take a nap before supper." He turned away from his friends' worried faces and dashed up the stairs. If he didn't sleep, at least maybe he could have a moment to himself so he could get some actual studying done – or better yet, his Muggle Studies essay.

He had just gotten into his four-poster when the door into the boys' dormitory opened and shut. Harry glanced up and saw Ron come inside, _The Daily Prophet_ in hand. He threw it down on the foot of Harry's bed.

"Look, Ron, I've had a long day. I don't want to get into anything with you…" Harry began.

"You saw it, didn't you?" Ron interrupted. "You saw the whole thing."

Harry sighed. "Pretty much."

"The Ministry said no survivors," Ron said. "All the Death Eaters. Gone. The other prisoners. The workers. All killed."

Harry could still smell the stench of death. He shivered. "Murdered."

Ron plopped down on the bed across from him and held his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Ron…"

"I acted like such an idiot yesterday. I just forget how much you have on your plate sometimes. I'm so narcoleptic."

Harry grinned. "Narcissistic?"

"Right." Harry could see that Ron felt terrible. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked as though he hadn't gotten much sleep either. His face was paler than usual. "I'm really sorry. I was so upset over these stupid, petty things like Quidditch that I forgot what was important. I forgot about the war. About V-Voldemort."

"It's okay. Things were calm for a while. It was misleading."

"It brought out the worst in me," Ron said. "I'm sorry."

"Quit apologizing," Harry snapped. "Do you want to hear about last night or not?"

Ron stayed silent as Harry told about the adventure from the night before. He left out a few parts, particularly about his tears and Eva's past.

"You mean you've been seeing that wench from the medieval dinner all along?"

"She's not a wench," Harry said. "Especially not after I got her fired last week."

"Wait, so in class, when you were talking about impressing a girl, it really wasn't Ginny after all?"

"No, it wasn't. How many times do I have to tell you – there's nothing more than friendship between us!"

"I know." Ron sighed. "Mum's going to be so disappointed when I tell her."

"You can't tell anybody!" Harry cried. "Not even Hermione."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want anybody to make a big fuss over it like they did when they thought Ginny and I were together. If word gets out about Eva… Well, word will get out about you and Hermione."

"You wouldn't… That's blackmail!"

"I would," Harry grinned. "Besides, I'm only a friend to Eva right now." And hopefully, one day soon, he would be more.


	28. The Next Step

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

**The Next Step**

As Harry sat in Defense Against the Dark Arts the next afternoon, he watched Tonks teach the class with an ease that she had only developed in the past few months. She was past her clumsiness – though she still had a few mishaps – and seemed to be enjoying herself.

There were a few things bothering him. How did she know where to find him after he'd had his vision? How did she know that he was in trouble? There was only one thing he knew for sure: he was under closer surveillance than he realized.

But the thing that made his skin crawl the most was the smugness he saw in Malfoy. He did not hide his cheerfulness at the escape of his father. He even had the nerve to come up to Harry before class and say, "At least it only took my father a few months to escape." Harry's blood had been boiling ever since. Not to mention that he was extra arrogant because of his capture of the Snitch.

The bell rang and most of the students quickly bolted out of the classroom. Harry, however, took his time in gathering his things. Perhaps he'd ask Tonks a few questions before he left.

"Harry, may I see you in my office, please?"

"Yes, Professor." Ron glanced at Harry, but he pretended not to notice. He quickly picked up his books and followed Tonks into her office.

As soon as he stepped inside the door, he was suddenly grabbed by the shoulders into a fierce hug. "Harry, what the hell are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?" Remus let go of him. He smiled at Harry, but his eyes were stern and filled with worry. He looked very pale, and Harry couldn't help but realize how boney he felt when he'd hugged him.

"Remus? What are you doing here?"

"Remus is going to take you to a special, er, meeting," Tonks said. "In light of recent events, some things are going to change."

"And you have a lot of explaining to do," Remus interrupted. "Not just about the vision, but about what the hell you were doing in Hogsmeade in the dead of night. Don't you realize how dangerous it is?"

Harry's anger from the night before came back to him in full-strength. Didn't Remus understand his need for refuge? If he hadn't gotten away last night, there was no telling what would have happened. He couldn't keep everything bottled up anymore.

"Well?" Remus asked. "Haven't you got anything to say for yourself?"

Harry glanced sideways at Tonks. She looked uncomfortable. "Maybe I'll just leave you two alone to discuss this. Er… Good luck, Harry." She gave him a pat on the shoulder and quietly left the room.

Harry knew that he should have been angry with Remus. He clearly didn't understand Harry's predicament last night. But he was so concerned. He sounded just like a father. And, for once, Harry didn't mind. It was a typical family scene – the father lecturing his son for sneaking out and coming home late. He knew that on some level, he shouldn't like the idea. Remus was not his father. But right now, he was the closest thing Harry had to family.

"I… I'm sorry."

Remus shook his head. "Sorry doesn't cut it. I don't understand. Why the hell would you want to go to Hogsmeade? To the Hog's Head, no less! That place is crawling with people who would love to do you in."

"I had my cloak," Harry replied, wondering how Remus knew that he'd gone to the pub.

"Yes, and I've half a mind to take it away from you!" Remus paced the room. Harry was glad to see that his anger had brought some color back into his cheeks. "Harry, there are so many people trying to protect you. They can't protect you when you go and do something radical like this."

Clearly, Remus didn't understand his position. Harry wanted to make him understand. "I saw you. Last night. With _her_." He jerked his thumb toward the door leading into the classroom.

"What?" Remus stopped dead in his tracks. "You mean – you saw _us_?"

Harry got the impression he was talking about something that had happened after he stopped watching, so he tried to be more specific. "I saw you and Tonks talking about Sirius. About how it was his birthday. About how you could be next."

Remus ran his hands over his face. "Harry, I'm sorry. I never meant for you to see that. No wonder you were upset."

"And it wasn't just that." Harry looked down to the floor. "Ron and I were fighting. Not to mention that Malfoy caught the Snitch yesterday in the Quidditch Match."

"What?" Harry could feel Remus's eyes on him, but he didn't have the heart to look up. He didn't want to see his pity.

"I don't know how he did it, but he beat me to it. Fair and square. And then at D.A., Cho talked to me about… about things. Plus, I've got all of this homework and two weeks' worth of detentions for messing up the field trip. And I had Occlumency with Snape, which was a complete disaster."

"It was?"

Harry shrugged. "Sort of. But I just had to get away. Seeing you lecture Tonks about how you might be next… it was the last straw."

"So you went to the _pub_?" Remus asked incredulously.

Harry gave a small smile. "Not exactly. I went to a room above the pub." Harry looked up at Remus. He could see that he was still confused. "I needed someone to talk to."

"Who?"

"Well…" Harry ran his fingers through his unruly hair and straightened his glasses, stalling. "There's… there's this girl."

Remus looked as though he had been expecting the worst. He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "A girl?"

Harry sighed. "She's not just any girl. She's my friend, Eva Finnigan."

"Finnigan?" Remus questioned. "You mean that Muggle Arthur's got working for him at the Ministry?"

He nodded. "She's got a room above the Hog's Head. I'm sorry, Remus. I didn't want to make everyone worry. I didn't know that I was going to have another vision. I just had to get away. I had to find someone to talk to before I exploded. Someone who was removed from it all."

"I understand, Harry. But you've got to be more careful. If Tonks hadn't found you when she did…"

"How did she find me?" Harry interrupted. "How does she know about the passage into Hogsmeade?"

Remus shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, Harry, as long as we're being honest with each other…" He cleared his throat. "There's something I didn't tell you about the Moon Guide."

"Which is?"

"It works both ways. You can see me when you look into your half. When I look into mine, I can see you." Looking older than usual, he sat down on the edge of Tonks's desk. He winced, as though his back hurt. "My main assignment from the Order has been to keep an eye on you. I'm afraid I haven't been doing a very good job."

Harry took a step towards him. "What you're really saying is that it was your job to _spy_ on me."

Remus nodded. "It was for your own good, Harry." Harry was fuming, but before he could say anything, Remus held up his hands to silence him. "Look, it really did feel like spying. That's why I didn't do it as often as I should have. It's one thing for me to give you permission to check up on me, however when the tables are turned it's a different story."

"Did Dumbledore put you up to this?" Harry questioned.

"Quite the contrary. It was Molly."

"Mrs. Weasley?" Now Harry was really confused. "But why would she care?" And as soon as he had asked the question, Harry realized how silly it was. His name was on the clock, wasn't it? He was an honorary member of the Weasley family. Mrs. Weasley would do anything to protect her family.

"Well, I happened to be with Tonks when I checked up on you yesterday morning. I saw you in the passageway. I recognized it. I would have gone to you myself if the full moon weren't last night…"

"Where were you?" Harry asked. How could Remus have gone to him if he was hundreds of miles away in his cabin? Or perhaps the familiar room he'd seen the two of them in was not so far away.

"That's not important," Remus said quickly. "I sent Tonks after you, and she managed to get you out of there unnoticed while I alerted Dumbledore." He glanced at the clock on the mantle of the fireplace in the office. "We'd better get going, Harry. They are expecting us."

"Where are we going? The Burrow?" By _they_, Harry thought he was referring to the Order.

Remus shook his head. "The Ministry, by Floo Powder. Oh, and Harry, I think it would best if we kept your location a secret."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that when you are questioned tonight, it would be best to say that you were in the hallway, not in the passageway." Remus had a glimmer in his eye. "Some things are best kept secret."

"Does Dumbledore know?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes I think he knows everything. His eyes and ears are everywhere – just as Voldemort's are. There's no keeping a secret from Dumbledore. But not everyone present at the meeting this afternoon can be trusted." He stood up from the desk and gave Harry another hug, much less fierce than the one he greeted him with. "I'm just glad you're safe."

Harry felt butterflies in his stomach as he followed Remus down the corridor on the ninth floor of the Ministry of Magic. He knew where they were going. He just didn't know why.

He had been in Courtroom Ten only once before. It was through a Pensieve, a memory. It was not a pleasant experience. But what was even more eerie was walking through the Department of Mysteries, knowing that Sirius had died only a few meters away.

His first conclusion was that he must have done something wrong. Perhaps he broke a law that he was unaware of. Or was he being called as a witness?

When they reached the stairway that led to the tenth floor, Remus gave Harry an encouraging pat on the back. "Go on. They're waiting for you."

Harry hesitated. "You aren't coming?"

"I'd rather not deal with Fudge right now, if it's all the same to you." He frowned. "Besides, it has already been decided."

"What has?"

Remus gave him a shove. "You'll see. And remember what we talked about. Some secrets are better left untold." He winked at Harry, then turned around and swaggered down the long hallway through the Department of Mysteries.

Harry turned away, took a deep breath, and began his ascent to the tenth floor. When he reached the doorway to Courtroom Ten, there was a guard. He was relived to see that it was not a Dementor as it had been in the Pensieve. It was merely a tough-looking wizard. He took one look at Harry and unlatched the door. It was covered with iron bolts that the guard threw open with some force.

Harry sucked in his breath as he entered the dimly lit dungeon. The walls were made of dark stone, and he felt as though he was stumbling to his very first Potions lesson that he'd had as a first year in the depths of Hogwarts. Torches were mounted on the walls, the flames dancing across the uneven floor.

Harry realized that he had stopped moving and he was slightly trembling in the wake of the courtroom. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Mr. Harry James Potter," a voice roared from the darkness. "Sit down."

Suddenly, the chair in the center of the dungeon was illuminated in bright light. It was covered with chains. The very same chains that had once held many Death Eaters captive. Harry gulped and slowly made his way to the chair, sitting down on the cold seat.

Were they going to chain him to the chair as they did with every criminal?

"For Merlin's sake, Fudge, you're scaring the poor boy!"

Harry somehow found the courage to look up at the Wizengamot. They were all dressed in plum-colored robes with elaborate silver W's stitched on one side. Harry recognized the woman who spoke. It was Amelia Bones, Susan Bones's aunt. She sat in the benches above him, peering down at him through her monocle. Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was sitting on her left side, looking indifferent. When Harry met his eyes, however, he could feel a spark of excitement.

Cornelius Fudge stepped out from the darkness in front of Harry. He cleared his throat. "My apologies, Harry." But he could tell that Fudge wasn't really sorry. "You have been called here, in front of the Wizengamot, to recount the events of the past few days. Severus Snape has already testified on your behalf, as well as Albus Dumbledore."

Testify? Was he on trial? And the more pressing question on his mind – why would Snape _ever_ testify on his behalf? He didn't dare ask these questions out loud. Perhaps Fudge would only hold it against him.

"Before we come to a verdict, the Wizengamot wishes to question you about the recent events surrounding your visions." He glanced up at the Wizengamot. "It's your floor, Amelia."

The square-jawed, gray-haired witch stared at him with such intense eyes that Harry found it hard to look away from them. "Harry, would you please recall the vision you had on the night of the Azkaban Fortress breakout?"

Harry nodded. He was so utterly confused that the vision seemed to be the only thing that made sense to him. It was still vivid. He glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded encouragingly. Harry launched into explanation of what he had seen in the Wizarding prison. "Then I reached for my scar because it was tingling. It was the eeriest sensation. It didn't hurt; it was just… extremely sensitive. Then next thing I knew, Professor Leurre was shaking me. I was on the floor – in the hallway," he added quickly.

"And the Dark Lord didn't see you?" a voice from above questioned. It came from an elderly man who Harry didn't recognize. "He didn't know you were there?"

"No," Harry replied confidently. "He didn't. If he would have known that I was there, my scar would have hurt." He wondered why there was such a sudden interest in the fact that his scar was no longer hurting. Before, it had been such a big deal if he felt any pain. Now, he rarely felt any.

"And what of the Occlumency lesson you spent with Professor Snape?"

Shocked, Harry did a double-take of the member of the Wizengamot who asked the question. "Excuse me?" He must have not heard her right. What did his Occlumency have to do with anything?

The tall, leathery-skinned witch who had asked the question stood up. "Mr. Potter," she repeated loudly, "when you performed Legilimency on Severus Snape, what did you see?"

Harry felt his cheeks grow red. He didn't see how that was at all relevant to whatever the hell was going on inside the courtroom. Why should he have to recall such an embarrassing memory – not only for him, but for Snape as well?

And then he realized what it was all about. Practicing Legilimency must have been against Wizarding law. He knew he should have never tried the spell on Snape. Now he was going to get his wand snapped in half for trying to see a memory that he never wanted to remember.

"Please answer the question, Harry," Fudge urged.

Once again, Harry looked to Dumbledore's eyes for approval. He gave a slight nod.

Harry took a deep breath and looked down to the floor. He was ashamed. "When I tried to read Professor Snape's mind, I saw him – I was him. I was talking to my father." He paused. "My mother was crying, and my father said that Snape was in debt to him for saving his life. He said that if he failed, then…" Harry's voice trailed off.

"Then what?" Fudge encouraged.

Harry felt his face flush even more. "Then my mother was all _his_," Harry spat. "Then they shook hands, and my father went off to comfort my mother." He spoke quickly, wanting it to end.

"And what was Professor Snape thinking?"

All heads, all but Harry's, snapped in Dumbledore's direction. Harry felt anger well up inside of him. Why did he have to admit to everything? Why was Dumbledore making him recall this extremely awkward memory?

Harry sighed. "He was thinking, 'Lily, I've lost you…' And then it was over."

The courtroom was silent. Harry suddenly realized that he was gripping the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were white. It felt like hours before anyone spoke again.

Amelia Bones stood up from her seat. "Clearly, he is ready for the next step." Most of the other wizards and witches on the Wizengamot nodded in agreement. The next step? His punishment?

But Fudge spoke up from the floor. He shook his head. "Snape used the Pensieve in front of him. The results are inconclusive. The test was faulty. Harry _saw _him extract the memory."

Utterly bewildered, Harry couldn't take sitting in silence any longer. He was still embarrassed from his recollection of the memory in the first place. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Fudge, but what's going on? Am I trial?" he demanded.

"See," Amelia Bones said. "He doesn't even know why he's here. He didn't even know he was being tested. Clearly, the license should be granted. He has insight into the Dark Lord's plan. He will aide the war. He will be a great asset to our fight."

"He is more than an asset," Dumbledore stated. "He is a sixteen-year-old young man. He has the heart of a child, pure and of good intentions. He has a curious mind and a knowledge of magic that puts him at the head of his class." Harry felt himself blushing at the compliments. "He will use his gift wisely."

"Good intentions or not," Fudge interrupted. "The Wizengamot must be unanimous in order for a license to be granted."

"And who, on the Wizengamot, objects?" Amelia Bones said, glaring at Fudge. "You seem to be the only untrusting one of us, Minister. You are in no position to withhold a license."

"License for what?" Harry asked. But no one seemed to hear him.

"Then without further ado, as I'm sure we all have other places to be," Dumbledore said, standing up. "I am calling this matter to a vote. All those in favor of granting Harry James Potter a license to practice Legilimency, please raise your wands."

Harry watched, open-mouthed, as every member of the Wizengamot raise their wands in unison, including Dumbledore.

"As there are none opposed, please bring forward the contract for Harry to sign."

Grumbling, Fudge produced a piece of golden parchment with the Ministry's seal on it. He brought it over to Harry and gave him a large, peacock feather pen for him to sign with. "Please sign on the line below."

Harry hastily read the parchment before putting his signature on it.

_I, the undersigned, swear to practice the art of Legilimency in the most moral, ethical, secretive, and just ways. As a skilled Legilimens, I will not take advantage of weaker minds and will adhere to the policies set forth by the Ministry, or will face the consequences set up by the administration thereof._

It took Harry a moment for it all to sink in. He was on trial, but not for committing a crime. They were testing him. This was what Dumbledore was talking about when he called Harry a weapon. He had already learned the best defense against Voldemort through Occlumency. Now he would go on the offense, using Legilimency.

Harry signed the slip of parchment. Fudge took the pen back from him and rolled the contract back up. "Congratulations, Harry. You are now the youngest Legilimens since the Dark Lord himself."

Harry felt a shiver down his spine. He didn't know whether to thank him or not. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Harry, you can leave now. Mr. Lupin will be waiting outside the corridor. He will escort you back to Hogwarts. In the meantime, prepare yourself. Legilimency instruction will begin in the days ahead. And Harry, please do not tell anyone at Hogwarts of tonight's events."

Harry nodded. He quickly got up from the chair and walked back to the door he had come through. He was very thankful to be one of the few who stood on trial in Courtroom Ten and walked out a free man.


	29. Professor and Student

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE**

**Professor and Student**

As Harry sat at breakfast the next morning, he couldn't help but wonder what he had gotten himself into. Sure, Legilimency was new to him, and it would be somewhat exciting to be able to read people's emotions memories. Perhaps he would find some satisfaction from breaking into Snape's mind, just as Snape had done to him for the past year. But he was more afraid of what he would find. The last thing he wanted to know about was some twisted triangle that had existed between Snape and his parents. Harry shuttered at the thought.

"Where were you yesterday afternoon?" Ron asked, taking a seat next to Harry in the Dining Hall. "You disappeared after Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh… I was in detention," Harry said quickly. He briefly wondered if studying Legilimency would make him a better liar.

"In the afternoon?" Ron questioned. "Wow, I never thought Professor Avis would be that strict."

Harry shrugged and spooned some oatmeal into his empty bowl. "Wasn't too bad." When he finally did arrive back at school, he could have gone to the rest of his afternoon class, but instead he took the opportunity to retrieve the invisibility cloak and map when the halls were deserted.

A few moments later, Hermione joined them at the table. She took a seat next to Ron, who poured her a glass of juice and helped her to some oatmeal. "Honestly, would you two get a room?" Harry muttered.

"Shut up, you git," Ron muttered. "Remember our little agreement?"

"What agreement?" Hermione questioned.

"Nothing," Harry and Ron both said at the same time. She wasn't going to buy it, but just as she opened her mouth to question them, the owls swooped inside the Great Hall, carrying the mail.

Harry didn't bother to hide his joy in seeing Hedwig, who dropped two letters in his lap. He pet her affectionately. "Glad you're all right. I was beginning to worry." She gave him a peck on his arm and helped herself to some of the juice in his goblet.

"It's so odd that there are scarcely any owls," Hermione said. "I haven't seen a Hogwarts owl in over a month. I wonder what's going on."

"You know," Harry said, lowering his voice, "I saw Malfoy up in the Owlery. I bet he has something to do with it."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Ron agreed.

"Better be careful," Harry whispered to Hedwig before she took off from the table. The owl from _The Daily Prophet_ flew over to Hermione, and she put a few coins in the purse attached to its claw. She helped herself to a copy.

Harry continued to eat as he inspected the letters in his lap. One was from Remus, he recognized the handwriting. But the second one he didn't recognize. His name was written elegantly on the front. It was feminine.

There was only one girl who would be writing to him.

Harry quickly shoved the last of his breakfast into his mouth. "Harry, what's the rush?" Hermione questioned.

"Oh, er, I forgot to proofread my essay for McGonagall. I've got to go put the finishing touches on it before class." He grabbed a piece of toast from the plate on the center of the table. "I'll see you in Transfiguration!"

Harry grinned and winked at Ron as he hurried out of the Great Hall. He didn't want the risk of someone else seeing his letter from Eva. Plus, there was something appealing – exciting about their secret relationship, even if it was only friendship. He now fully understood the thrill that Ron and Hermione had talked about in keeping their relationship a secret. Even though it wasn't exactly an intimate relationship, Eva hadn't kissed him without a reason. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes right before he went to sleep, Harry could still feel where her lips had touched his cheek.

Once he was safely back in the boys' deserted dormitory, he gently opened the letter, careful not to tear the envelope in the wrong places. He quickly unfolded the parchment and read eagerly.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope that you're feeling much better than the last time we met. I know that you were having a rough night and I'm honored that you came to me. It feels wonderful to know that you trust me enough to come to me when you need someone to confide in. I really appreciate it, and I hope that one day you will do the same for me._

_Speaking of friends, my fellow Muggle, David – the Black Knight from the Royal Realm – has been trying to get me a job with another theatre company. He's had no luck, as my reputation has been tarnished by my "alcoholism." He's been very sweet and understanding about this whole situation. However, there is good news._

_The Ministry has taken Mr. Weasley's suggestion and hired me as a full-time employee! My research has really taken an exciting turn. I wish that I could talk about it, but as Arthur says, "It's classified." I started Monday and everything worked out fine. I finally met Mrs. Weasley when she stopped by to meet Arthur for lunch. She was very generous and invited me over for dinner next week. I'm quite nervous about it. I hope that you and her son have made up. Friends are a terrible thing to lose._

_But when I'm not working, I daresay that I'm a little bored and a little lonelier. I hope you'll stop by again soon. Please keep an eye on Nora and make sure she stays out of trouble._

_Write back soon,_

_Eva Finnigan_

Harry felt a warmth inside that he hadn't felt… well, since Eva had given him that kiss on the cheek. He quickly reread the letter. He couldn't have asked for better news. However, he couldn't help but notice how she talked about David. Sweet? Understanding? Harry could be sweet – he could definitely be understanding.

He didn't realize that she had other friends. In retrospect, it was a ridiculous assumption. But Nora said that she didn't really know anybody else. Apparently, Nora didn't really know about David.

Harry tried to squash the jealousy he felt in the pit of his stomach. He was reading too much into her letter. After all, hadn't she invited him back to the Hog's Head? Didn't she urge him to write back soon? He was being stupid. He would just have to make sure that Eva knew he thought of her as more than a friend.

He would not let his jealousy get the better of him again. He was still paying for the mistake he'd made the last time.

That afternoon, after Potions, Snape called Harry up to his desk after class and told him that their Remedial Potions lesson was cancelled that night. With an arrogant sneer he said that Harry would report to Professor Avis's office for detention instead.

Harry couldn't help wondering what his detention would entail. He had already turned in his essay about the field trip on Monday. Maybe she would make him write another? Or perhaps read another Muggle book? The books he didn't mind so much – they reminded him of his days back in primary school. Or perhaps he'd be stuck making photocopies of all of their class handouts with her Muggle machine. Or maybe she'd want to ask him questions about his life as a Muggle.

No matter what it was, he hoped it wasn't too complicated. He knew that he deserved whatever kind of punishment she was going to administer to him, but he'd been so stressed lately he'd be grateful for a break.

As he trudged down the first-floor corridor, his mind wandered to Eva's letter. He'd stashed it beneath his pillow hastily before Transfiguration that morning, and he didn't have an opportunity to sit down alone and write a letter back to her. He wondered how she was fairing at the Burrow, having dinner with the Weasleys. The idea of her sharing mince pie at the dining room table with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the twins was enough to make him laugh out loud.

Harry reached the painting of the owls on the telephone wire, who were all hooting softly, and entered the classroom. The door to Professor Avis's office was near the crackling fireplace, and when he knocked on her office door, he could feel the heat on the back of his neck.

"Come in." Her voice rang cheerfully from her office.

Harry opened the door and stepped inside. Professor Avis was hunched over a stack of open books. She peered through her glasses at him and stood up from her desk. "Oh, Harry dear. What are you doing here?"

Confused, Harry checked his watch. Perhaps he'd gotten the time wrong. "I'm… I'm here for my detention, professor."

"Didn't anyone tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Harry asked.

She rushed forward to him, ushering him out of her office. "You were to report to Professor Dumbledore's office at once!"

"But… what for? Professor Snape told me…"

Professor Avis practically pushed him out the door. "He was supposed to send you to the headmaster's office," she interrupted. "You'd better hurry or you'll be late."

"Late?" Harry questioned. "Late for what?" Professor Avis didn't give him any reply. He mumbled an apology and quickly left the classroom. What did Dumbledore need to see him for? Was there something wrong? Was it Remus?

Had his own prediction of his fate come true?

Harry broke into a jog and hurried up to the second floor to the empty corridor with the statue of the gargoyle. "Ton-tongue toffee." He nearly shouted the password. The stairs couldn't appear fast enough. He ran up the stone steps and burst into Dumbledore's office, forgetting to knock and quite out of breath.

"Ah, Harry, I was wondering when you'd arrive."

"What happened?" Harry demanded. "Is it Remus? Did something happen to him?"

Dumbledore's confusion mirrored his own. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"Snape sent me to Professor Avis for detention and she told me to come here at once. She didn't tell me why. Did something happen to Remus? To the Weasleys?"

"Sit down, Harry. Everyone is fine. I'm afraid that you may have misunderstood the situation." After Harry plopped into one of the chairs in front of his desk, Dumbledore sat down as well. "I take it you don't know why you're here?"

Harry gulped. "Am I in trouble again?"

The old wizard smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Not yet. Harry, I'm not sure you realize the enormity of what happened yesterday afternoon at the Ministry. A license to practice Legilimency is not something that the Ministry hands out like those clever pins in the telephone booth." Dumbledore sat back in his chair and intertwined his long, boney fingers. "In fact, you are the youngest licensed Legilimens since Voldemort himself."

Harry felt his insides churn at the sound of the Dark Lord's name. So another power had been passed to him from Voldemort's attempt on his life. "Why?" Harry questioned. "I don't understand why I was hauled out to the Ministry in such secrecy. I don't understand why I'd even be considered for a license in Legilimency. I've only used the spell once – and that wasn't even really on purpose. I've been practicing Occlumency for a year, not Legilimency."

"The two kinds of magic are intertwined," Dumbledore replied. "Sometimes it is impossible to study one without studying the other. You have demonstrated that your level of Legilimency is worthy enough of an investigation that the Ministry has authorized you to practice it."

"But how did I do it?"

"You really don't know?" Dumbledore questioned. "Think hard, Harry. Have you been interpreting people's feelings lately? Have you had a strong sense of intuition when you interact with people, particularly when you look them in the eye?"

Harry raised his eyes to Dumbledore's level. Nothing. He didn't sense anything. However, it had been different with others. Especially with Snape, after he had used Legilimency. "I… I did see a memory of Snape's. The one they made me recall at the hearing."

The headmaster nodded. "Your last Occlumency lesson worked out quite well. On a hunch, Professor Snape pulled the memory from the Pensieve, and was anxious to see if you would use the spell on him. Though you say that you used Legilimency on accident, I'm afraid he would disagree." He grinned. "Professor Snape seems to think that consciously – or subconsciously – you wanted to see what memory he had dangled before you. And you said the incantation and got exactly what you wanted."

"I didn't want to see _that_," Harry said quickly.

"Indeed. Sometimes, a Legilimens is forced to see things they do not wish to. Things they didn't even know existed in the mind of man." He said it more as a warning than an observation. "Legilimency is both a gift and a burden, as most skills are."

"Did you say that was my last Occlumency lesson?" Harry asked. He tried not to sound too overjoyed.

"Yes. You have proven through your last vision of Voldemort that you are no long susceptible to feeling pain when he is particularly powerful. Though your experience leaves some questions unanswered, the Wizengamot, as well as the Ministry, has agreed that you are now ready for the offensive part of your training. Occlumency was your defense; Legilimency will be your attack." Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair. "You will attend to your detentions for Professor Avis for the next two weeks. Then you will have a much desired break until after the holidays, when your training in Legilimency will begin."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "So I won't have to meet with Professor Snape until after we come back from break?" It was a dream come true to be able to stay away from the dungeon for a few weeks.

"I'm afraid you will not be returning to the dungeon for your lessons."

"I won't?"

"Professor Snape will no longer be helping you."

Harry tried not to jump out of his seat and cheer. "Who will be?"

Dumbledore's grin grew wider. "I will be your new instructor."

"Really, professor?"

"Yes, _professor_," Dumbledore replied. "After all, haven't you ever wondered why they call me Professor Dumbledore instead of Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Er… not really," Harry said honestly.

"Well, now you know." Dumbledore suddenly grew more somber. "I trained Tom Riddle myself some fifty years ago when I was only a professor and he was the star pupil. I will train you, as well Harry, and I will do my best to ensure that you are at least his equal." He sighed. He suddenly looked much older. "The Ministry has taken many steps to ensure that only the right people have been able to practice Legilimency after the terror Voldemort caused. Now that they have deemed you worthy, you will finally be able to train at his level."

Dumbledore's words earlier that term rang in Harry's ears. Once he learned to control his visions, he would prove to be invaluable to the Order.

_'You are our weapon, Harry_…'

By the time Harry got out of Dumbledore's office, it was nearly ten o'clock. He wanted nothing more than to retreat to the comfort of his four-poster and compose a letter to Eva. He had already started writing it in his head, but he just couldn't find a way to say what he had to say without sounding jealous.

Didn't she know what she did to him every time she walked into a room? Their chance meetings meant so much to him. He wanted to tell her that, but he was pretty sure she would think he was crazy. Her words about someone else had woken the green monster of jealousy inside of him. He didn't realize there was competition.

He just didn't understand women. How had Ron, someone who was inexperienced and a little immature, managed to have such an incredible relationship with Hermione? How had he turned their friendship into something more? Perhaps he should ask Ron for advice…

But that would mean that Ron would want to know details, and details were not something Harry was ready to give yet. He could ask Hermione about it, but she was not an ordinary girl.

When he walked into the Gryffindor common room, he didn't even notice Ginny sitting on a couch in front of the fireplace until she called out to him. "You look terrible."

Harry turned around and swiped his hands through his hair. "Thanks." He sighed. "I'm going to go up to bed."

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" she questioned.

"Definitely not," Harry replied automatically. But then as he turned to the stairs the led to the boys' dormitory, he realized that perhaps Ginny would be the best person to ask for advice in this situation. She seemed to have the most dating experience out of all his friends. And he knew that if he kept all of his emotions bottled up inside, they'd only explode again like they did the weekend before.

"Actually, I think I need some advice." He walked over to the couch and sat down on the opposite end. "_Girl_ advice."

"Oh really?" Ginny said with a raised eyebrow. "Anyone I know?"

"Nope," he replied honestly. "Er, just girls in general."

"Well, go ahead," she said. "Ask away."

Harry took a deep breath. "How do you change a friendship into a relationship? I mean, you and Michael were friends before you dated. Ron and Hermione were friends before they started dating. How do you suddenly take the step to the next level?"

"It's pretty simple, really," Ginny replied. "You just talk to her about it."

Harry groaned in frustration. "But when I'm around her – I mean, girls – it's hard to talk about anything related to the subject of dating. I'm always making an ass of myself. I try to be there for her, to rescue her, and it all just blows up in my face."

"Whoa, slow down." Ginny held up her hands. "Not every girl wants a knight in shining armor. I certainly don't. Most girls just want someone to be there for them – you know, after they're done saving the day. Someone to hold her hand and be her last goodnight."

"Last goodnight?" Harry questioned.

She nodded. "You know, the last person she talks to before she falls asleep. The last thing on her mind and the first when she wakes up in the morning." Ginny smiled and leaned back on the couch, reminiscing. "And when you say that last goodnight, instead of _talking_ about taking it to the next level, you just _do _it."

Harry didn't need to ask how. He could see that particular method had obviously worked on Ginny. He was really surprised at her maturity and knowledge of the subject. He didn't feel awkward with her as he had after their kiss. There was a bond between them – a friendship. It was a strong one.


	30. Letters and Pigs

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

**Letters and Pigs**

"You know, Gin, there's something that's been bothering me." Harry hoped that he wasn't overstepping the warm welcome she'd given him, but he had to ask. He didn't know whether his ego could take another blow, but he was willing to risk it.

"What is it?" she asked, yawning.

He took a deep breath. "Why did you suddenly decided that you didn't like me anymore? That you didn't have a crush on me?"

Ginny laughed. "Are you serious?" She sighed and turned her head to stare at the fire. "It wasn't sudden. I mean, I've tangled with it for a long time. Years." She picked at a thread unraveling on her skirt. "It's just… well, you're famous Harry. Anyone who dates you is going to be famous too. They're going to have to live up to the standards of the public eye forever. Me," she scoffed, "I don't want to be famous. I just want to be me. And I'm not sure I could do that if I was dating you."

Harry nodded. "I guess I understand." He didn't realize that fame was something she didn't want. He'd never given much thought to his position in the public eye. He hated publicity, but he knew that others could shine in the spotlight. He just wasn't one of them. "Was it just because of the fame?"

"Well…" she stalled. "It wasn't just the fame thing."

"What was it?"

"It's not easy to say."

"Just say it," Harry urged. "I can take it."

She looked at him somberly. "Kissing you, well, it almost felt like I was kissing Ron or something. It's not your fault!" Ginny cried, seeing the look of horror on his face. "I'm sorry – the kiss, I just had to get it out of my system. I had to know that there wasn't any romance between us. Besides, Jack is way better at it than you… "

"What?" Harry cried. "Are you joking? Jack Sloper?"

"It's not serious," Ginny replied. "Yet."

"Well, I mean, he's probably had more practice than I've had," Harry said, making excuses. "After all, I've only been ambushed for kisses."

Ginny grunted. "And whose fault is that? If you want it, you've got to take it."

Harry laughed. It felt good to be able to joke around with someone. Ginny really was easy to talk to, and he definitely had a newfound respect for her. "You know, Gin, I think you could handle the spotlight. You would have no problem living up to the standards of the public eye."

Winter rushed into Hogwarts with a mighty storm that rattled windows and nearly frosted the plants in the greenhouses. Students bundled up to go to outdoor classes, and for once, Harry didn't feel too guilty for not taking Care of Magical Creatures. He felt sorry for all of the other classes who had to go outside in the cold. The second Quidditch match of the season was brutal though, and Ravenclaw devastated Hufflepuff and defeated them with one of the biggest leads on record in the history of Hogwarts.

He found that the snow was actually quite peaceful. Detention with Professor Avis was more than bearable. Harry actually looked forward to it. Professor Avis was a very nice woman and she held detention like she would if she were a teacher in a Muggle school. It was a quiet place for Harry to do his homework every night for two hours.

It was also a great way for him to write to Eva in secrecy. They had been writing back and forth nearly every day. Harry looked forward to receiving her letter every morning. Hedwig was getting quite a workout, but she seemed to enjoy it instead of spending her time in the cold of the Owlery.

It was also comforting to know that the owls had returned and seemed to be unharmed. Hagrid had been alerted of the problem a few weeks earlier and after a good cleaning from Filch and a some special recipe from Hagrid, they were back in time to seek refuge from the winter weather.

Harry was happy to be sitting next to the warm hearth in the Muggle Studies classroom. He felt like he knew Eva a lot better now that they'd been exchanging letters. As he lay in bed every night, thinking of her, he wanted nothing more than to sneak away to Hogsmeade to see her again. He just couldn't risk it. He was in enough trouble already. After the holidays, however, it would be a different story.

_Dear Eva,_

_It's good to hear that dinner with the Weasleys went well. I know that the twins can be a little overwhelming when you first meet them. You should have seen the trouble they got into at Hogwarts. They're legends._

_All of the Weasleys are amazing. I mean, Ron is more than a best friend to me, he's like a brother. We have our differences, but I know he's always got my back. His sister, Ginny, is one of the strongest and most outspoken women I know (besides you, of course). The twins are loyal and always good for a laugh. Bill and Charlie are good men who are out there making a difference in the world._

Harry paused. He didn't know if he should mention Percy. If Eva was going to be spending time at the Burrow, she would find out soon enough. It wasn't his place to tell.

_Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are the glue that holds the family together. They have welcomed me into their family with open arms (did you happen to see the clock?) and I owe them so much. I only hope that I haven't done too much damage to my relationship with Mr. Weasley after the fiasco on our field trip. Which I am still very, very sorry about. I don't think I can apologize enough._

_I'll be spending the holidays with the Weasleys instead of at Hogwarts this year. It's going to be my first real family-like Christmas. I owe the Weasleys so much. I know that you feel indebted to them as well. Maybe we could put our heads together and find a way to repay them._

_What are your plans for the holidays? Are you and Nora going anyplace special? Maybe we could get together sometime before I have to go back to school._

_See you at Platform 9 and 3/4,_

_Harry_

Harry added the last paragraph with hasty strokes of his pen. If he didn't write it then, at that second, he would have lost his nerve. But Ginny's advice was still fresh in his mind. If he wanted to take their relationship to the next level, he would really have to _take_ it there. And he knew, without a doubt, that was what he wanted.

Acing midterms had taken its toll on Hermione as she trudged into the Great Hall later that week. She looked exhausted. Her eyes were red and puffy from lack of sleep. She plopped down across the table from Harry and Ron and helped herself to some potatoes.

"You look a wreck," Ron said with little sympathy. He, unlike Hermione, was taking the midterms in stride. He was waiting until finals in the spring to freak out.

"Thanks," she muttered. She glared at him. Ron flashed her a brilliant grin, complete with a view of the mouthful of sausage he was eating. "Ew. That's disgusting. How many times have I told you what they did to that pig before they slaughtered it? How can you eat that?"

Ron put down his fork. He'd had enough of Hermione's sermons. He'd heard about a dozen lectures on the mistreatment of animals. He was sick and tired of having to put up with her huffing and puffing about eating meat or dairy at every meal. "What about you?"

"What about me?" she asked innocently.

"What about those potatoes you're eating?" he continued. "Don't you feel guilty? Spent their childhoods in the rich soils of Ireland only to be plucked out of the fertile soil in their prime to be fed to some annoying, infuriating vegan?"

Harry could have sworn he saw smoke pouring out of Hermione's ears. "What did you just call me?" she demanded.

Ron glanced around the dining hall. People noticed their quarrelling and had stopped chatting to listen. "Hermione, settle down. It was only a joke," he muttered under his breath.

"No, Ron, you think _I'm _a joke!" she exploded. "You never take me seriously. Do you think everything that I do, everything I stand up for is just some stupid fad?" She quickly stood up from her seat. "Only snogging me for a laugh, are you? Giving _me_ lectures about keeping our romance a secret, ay? "

"Of course not. Hermione, sit down," Ron whispered. "You're embarrassing me."

"Well, let me put an end to _this_ embarrassment, Ronald Weasley." She picked up her goblet of juice, and before Ron had time to react, threw it in his face. "You are a pig, and I hope you end up castrated like one! _We are through!_"

And without a second's hesitation, Hermione turned on her heel and marched out of the Great Hall. The entire room was silent. Ron's face turned several different shades of red before he finally stood up and rushed after her, leaving a trail of juice on the floor behind him.

Harry thought about going after them, but he knew that he had no place in their relationship. He wanted to stay as far away from their personal matters as possible. So instead, he turned back to his oatmeal and waited for the owl post to arrive.

It was odd for Harry to be leaving Hogwarts for winter break. As he packed his trunk, he couldn't help but be excited for the holiday to come. Ron was trying to show that he was not the least bit upset that Hermione had called him a pig and broken his heart in front of the entire school. Harry, however, could see the pain in his eyes every time he looked at her. They were being civil to each other, but nothing more.

Despite Ron's troubles, Harry thought his excitement also may have had something to do with the fact that he'd be seeing Eva. Before leaving the boys' dormitory, he studied his reflection in the mirror. He never thought he would be the type of guy to worry about what a girl thought of his appearance. But for Eva, he wanted to look his best.

"Ready?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "Do you ever wonder how the house-elves get everything out to the train so quickly?"

Ron shrugged. "Must be some sort of special house-elf magic. Tonks makes it sound like they're invincible."

Harry had to wonder if they were. The two of them walked silently down from the dormitory and met up with Hermione and Ginny in the common room. Whenever Harry was around Hermione and Ron, he felt like he had to walk on eggshells. Ginny, on the other hand, seem to be bursting with energy and was extremely annoyed with Ron.

"You're still coming for Christmas Eve, aren't you?" Ginny asked, making sure she was loud enough so that Ron would hear her.

Hermione glanced in Ron's direction, but didn't meet his eyes. "Of course. I don't want to offend Mr. and Mrs. Weasley."

"We're going to be late," Ron muttered. "C'mon, Harry." Ron turned and quickly left the common room. Harry gave Hermione and Ginny sympathetic looks and followed him.

Harry hated how difficult it was to talk to him. He should have known that it would have never worked out between them. Now there was awkwardness between his two best friends, and he didn't think there was anything that could heal it – except for time. But how much time? How long would it take for them to be the best of friends again? Would things ever be the same?

Harry was glad to have some time away from the two of them on the train. While Ron tended to his prefect duties, Harry found an empty compartment to sit in. It wasn't long before someone poked their head inside.

"Hello, Harry," Luna Lovegood greeted. She was still dressed in her Hogwarts robes, her long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She came inside the compartment and sat across from him, not asking if the seat was already taken.

Harry didn't mind. It had been a while since he'd talked to Luna. He still felt that he owed her for all of the help she gave him last year. "Hi, Luna," he replied cordially. "How are you?"

"Fine. A bit bored though."

"Bored?" he questioned.

She nodded. "You know, Harry, some of us don't have anything to do but D.A. The serious lack of meetings has been troubling."

"Oh." Harry frowned. He didn't realize that anyone was upset over it. However, it was true that he wasn't as active as he was last year. He felt like his life was total chaos this year. But after Christmas, he could relax a little more. He wouldn't have to worry about Quidditch or Occlumency. In fact, things were looking up after the new year. "I'm sorry, Luna. I've just been really busy this year. But we'll have more meetings when we get back. I promise."

Luna seemed satisfied with his response. "I heard you're spending Christmas with the Weasleys."

"Er, yeah, I am."

"Maybe we'll run into each other over the holidays," she said, smiling at him.

Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He forgot that the Lovegoods lived near the Weasleys. "Maybe we will."

The train's whistle sounded. The Hogwarts Express started up and lurched forward onto the tracks. Harry sat back and gazed out the window, watching as Hogwarts started to disappear from the horizon.

The compartment remained silent, except for the sound of Luna filddling with her Butterbeer bottle cap necklace. Harry glanced at her. She looked nervous about something.

"My father would really like to meet you," she announced. "He wouldn't mind doing a follow-up interview, either. He wanted to do one earlier, but I told him to wait."

"A follow-up interview about what?" Harry questioned. "Nothing's really happened…"

"The breakout," Luna interrupted. "But I think he may have his own agenda. _The Quibbler_ has been having some problems."

"Problems?"

Luna hesitated. "Financial ones." She turned and looked out the window, still playing with the bottle caps around her neck. "After the article last year, well, certain parties decided to pull their funding. My father has been trying to get by on subscriptions alone. It would really help us out if you could do another interview."

"Of course I could," Harry replied.

Luna's head snapped toward him, her silver eyes looking more surprised than usual. "You will?"

Harry nodded. "I don't mind. After all, you risked your life for me last year. The least I could do is help your father out."

Luna grinned broadly. "Thank you, Harry. It will be tasteful. I promise. You could even have Rita Skeeter do it again."

"Er… I'll have to talk it over with Hermione first." He wasn't entirely sure that Rita could do a tasteful piece on him without the aide of Hermione's blackmail.

"Are you sad about her and Ron?"

"Sad?" Harry raised an eyebrow. He didn't know if he was more surprised by the fact that she knew about them, or that she was actually talking to him about it. However, their big fight did happen in the Great Hall for everyone to see. But what was she getting at? "Not really. Just… disappointed."

Harry noticed a slight smile on her face as she turned to look out the window again. He opened his mouth to question her, but their compartment door suddenly slid open and slammed shut. Hermione stomped inside. The door opened again, and this time Ron came inside, his face so angry that the redness spread from the tip of his nose, past his cheeks, to his ears.

"Quit following me!" Hermione snapped.

"I've as much right to be here as you do. Harry was my friend first, you know."

"So that's the way you're going to be?" Hermione demanded. "Off all the pig-headed, childish…"

"Prefect duties over already?" Harry interrupted quietly.

"Hmfph," Ron grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. "They kicked us out. Said we were too disruptive."

"They said _you_ were too disruptive," Hermione snapped, looking pompous. "The other Prefects said that I was merely annoying."

"A truer word's never been spoken," Ron muttered.

Hermione was on her feet in a flash, and Harry stood up and tried to pull her back, and when that didn't work, he shielded Ron, who had also sprang up from his seat. He was in the middle. This time both literally and figuratively. Luna watched, expressionless, as the two of them shouted and cursed at each other.

"Enough!" Harry exploded. Hermione and Ron stopped moving and screaming and Harry made sure that they had at least an arm's length of distance between them. "I don't know what the hell is going on between the two of you, but you had better figure out a way to fix it before Christmas Eve. Your parents," he nodded to Ron, "work hard to make a nice celebration for everyone to enjoy. It's my first real family Christmas _ever_, and I'll not let your quarreling ruin it for me or for everybody else." He glared at both of them, but neither would meet his eyes. "You'll have some time apart before then to cool off. I suggest you both get your feelings straightened out."

Once he said what needed to be said, Harry plopped back down into his seat and looked out the window for the remainder of the train ride. Ron and Hermione sat in silence. Harry wondered if the distance between them would help cool things off a bit. They really did bring out the best and the worst of each other.


	31. Homecoming

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE**

**Homecoming**

When the train pulled up to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Harry's spirits lifted a little. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were waiting for them, along with the two identical red-heads at her side. Fred and George would surely cheer him up – and Ron too.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione said goodbye to Luna and quickly got off the Hogwarts Express. Hermione found her bags and her parents, and said that she would see everyone at the Weasley's for Christmas Eve dinner. As Harry was gathering his trunk, he saw little Nora bolt off the train and run straight towards her sister at top speed. Eva met her halfway and they embraced. Harry could see wetness in both pairs of eyes. Eva looked brilliant, as usual. He was just admiring her hair when he felt pain explode on his leg.

"Ouch," Harry cursed as Ron pushed his trunk into his shin.

Ron turned around. "Sorry," he muttered. He followed Harry's gaze to where Eva and Nora were standing on the platform. He sighed. "Women. They're all bad, Harry. The whole lot."

Even though he said it, Harry knew Ron didn't mean it. Now that he saw Eva, he was suddenly more aware that his tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth and his knees were quite weak.But all the excitement of seeing her and exchanging letters left him with little preparation for when he actually met her face to face.

He sucked in his breath as Nora led her older sister towards where Harry and Ron were standing to collect their baggage. Harry felt certain panic, but the Weasleys came to his rescue and met them there as well.

"Oh, I've missed all of you so much," Mrs. Weasley said, embracing each of them in turn. "Not that the house has been too quiet or anything…" She glanced at the twins.

Mr. Weasley hugged them as well. "Where's Hermione?"

"She had to leave," Ron said quickly. He cleared his throat. "She had… an appointment."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed to buy the explanation. By this time, Eva and Nora had already picked up Nora's things and pulled away from the crowd.

"Hullo, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley," Eva greeted as she approached the circle. "Do I dare ask who is holding down the fort at the Ministry?" she asked Mr. Weasley.

He grinned. "How many times must I tell you, Eva? It's Arthur. And I left Nelsonin charge for today. Let's hope he survives." The two of them laughed as though sharing an inside office joke. Ginny eyed her father and Eva curiously. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Where are my manners? Eva, this is my youngest son, Ron, and my only daughter, Ginny. This is Eva Finnigan, the newest researcher in my department."

They exchanged nods. "And you remember Fred and George, I'm sure."

"Indeed, they are unforgettable." Eva grinned. "This is my sister, Nora. She's a first-year." She introduced Nora to the twins and Mrs. Weasley. "They're the ones with the joke shop," she added.

Throughout the entire introduction, Harry felt as though he was being ignored, but when Eva now looked him in the eyes with a brilliant smile on her face, he was warmed over and quickly forgot whatever sour feelings he'd had. "Hullo, Harry," she greeted.

"Hello," Harry replied. It was so odd to be meeting her under normal conditions that it was beginning to feel quite awkward.

"How do you two know each other?" Ginny questioned, studying Harry and Eva with a narrow stare.

"Oh, we're old friends." Eva grinned. This time it was a private smile, just exchanged with Harry. He couldn't help but grin back idiotically. She had a way of smiling at him that made him feel like she did it only for him. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but yet he couldn't exactly put them into words.

"I've got a car from the Ministry," Mr. Weasley said. "Fancy a lift to… to wherever you're staying? There's plenty of room."

To Harry's disappointment, Eva shook her head. "I've rented a flat just 'round the corner. The one over-looking the river." She smiled at Nora, whose face lit up.

"You'll have to stop by for tea sometime now that you've got your holiday break," Mr. Weasley said. "Molly would be happy to have you."

"Or better yet," Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "Have you any plans for Christmas Eve?"

Eva seemed to hesitate. "No, I'm afraid we don't. Not really."

"You two should join us for our Christmas Eve celebration."

"We don't want to impose…" Eva began, looking slightly uncomfortable.

Nora tugged on her sleeve. "Please, Eva," she begged. Mentally, Harry was pleading with Eva as well. There were few days more magical – or romantic – than Christmas Eve.

"I'll not take no for an answer," Mrs. Weasley replied. "It's settled. Supper is at five o'clock. There'll be other guests as well, so don't you fret," she added. "No one, not even two sisters, ought to be alone on Christmas Eve."

"All right, you've convinced me," Eva replied, grinning. She glanced at Harry, but looked away before he could express his happiness. "Well, we'd better get going. It was nice to meet everyone. We'll see you on Christmas Eve."

Nora grabbed her kennel with the gray kitten, Alley, in it. Eva put the trunk onto a cart and pushed it towards the platform exit. As she walked past, Harry could swear he felt a jolt of electricity and warmth around his midsection. He tried not to appear alarmed and quickly stuck his hands in his coat pockets.

Inside, he felt a slip of parchment that had not been there earlier. Harry knew instantly what that jolt of excitement had been. Eva had just delivered him another letter. Harry fingered the parchment inside his pocket as they left the platform and walked between the walls that led to the Muggle world.

It was snowing lightly as Harry followed the Weasleys to the Ministry car. The sleek, black sedan looked normal from the outside, but as Mr. Weasley loaded everyone's baggage into the trunk, Harry could see that it was bewitched. There was no way any normal car could hold so many things, nor so many people. Harry slid between George and Ron into the backseat, which fit all of the children quite cozily. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat in the front.

Harry was anxious to read Eva's letter. The ride to the Burrow seemed to take unnaturally long, even though it was a Ministry car that moved at top speed through Britain – much faster than any normal car. Mrs. Weasley kept asking them questions about their lessons and Quidditch and about Ginny's O.W.L. preparation. Finally, George said, "For crying out loud, mum! Would you give them a break? They just got home from school; they don't want to relive the whole bloody term!"

"Mind your manners, George," Mr. Weasley scolded.

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "He's right, dear. I'm afraid that I'm a little overexcited to see everyone this holiday. It's been so long since most of us have been together for Christmas."

"Most of us?" Ginny questioned.

"Bill's spending the holidays with Fleur and her family," Fred said. "I imagine after this he'll change his mind and come back home without her."

Mrs. Weasley's jaw dropped. "Fred!"

"Rotten thing to say, really," George said. "Surely it'll be the other way around. Bill never behaves the best during the holidays. The Delacours will send him packing before midnight. He always said the holidays were more for causing mischief than celebration."

"Indeed," Mr. Weasley chuckled. "Advice you two took to heart at a very young age."

Fred and George exchanged mischievous grins. Harry was glad to see that after so many changes this term, the twins' playful demeanors were the same.

It was snowing a lot heavier in Ottery St. Catchpole when they arrived. Mr. Weasley betwtiched the trunks to let themselves into the Burrow and find their ways into the proper rooms.

When they got inside, Harry was amazed at all of the decorations. Sparkling streamers and glittering tinsel hung from all corners of the room. There was a tall fur tree in the living room. It looked as though the ceiling had been built higher to accommodate its massive size. Instead of a stand, the tree's roots were still buried in soil, the smell of earth and pine filling the room. There were red candles on every branch, casting long shadows on the walls. At the very top of the tree was a star behaving in a way that Harry could only describe as dripping gold. The drops started at the top of the star and trickled downward to the tips, and occasionally one would slide down the branches of the tree and pool like hardening wax on the wood, then disappear into the shadows.

Harry thought he had never seen a more beautiful sight. It filled him with such joy and hope, yet he almost felt as though he could cry. Mr. Weasley came over and gave him a pat on the back. "Like the tree, eh?"

Harry nodded. "It's… magnificent."

"Thanks. Bewitched it myself."

However, when Ron walked in the door, he barely took notice of the decorations. He mumbled something about unpacking and stomped upstairs to his bedroom. "He's in a foul mood," Fred said. "Did you tell him about the Order?"

Mrs. Weasley, who had been rummaging in the cupboard, looking for something for dinner, dropped the container she held in her hands. "Oh dear." She quickly bent over to pick it up, and Ginny was quickly on her hands and knees helping her mother.

"What about the Order?" Harry questioned.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged glances. "We didn't tell them yet," Mrs. Weasley said to George. She wrung her hands nervously.

"Tell us what?"

"Now Molly, you have a seat and save your cooking for Christmas Eve," Mr. Weasley said, taking his wife by the shoulders and forcing her into one of the chairs at the table.

"You two are going to put me into an early grave!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, shaking a finger at the twins.

"Come on, mum," Fred said. "We've been through all the dramatics before. We'll tell them."

"Tell us what?" Ginny demanded. She, too, took a seat at the table.

Without looking at one another, George and Fred seemed to communicate in that secretive way twins do. "We're joining the Order," they said together.

"What!" Ginny cried. "You can't be serious."

"We are," George continued. "Dead serious."

Mrs. Weasley gave him a smack on the head. "Don't say that."

"But how…?" Harry began.

"We're of legal age," Fred said. "It was brought up at a meeting, thanks to Charlie, and the Order discussed it, and after a unanimous vote, we're in."

"Unanimous?" Ginny glanced at her parents. "How could you vote in favor of such a ridiculous idea?" Harry was wondering how they managed to convince _Snape_ to be in favor.

"They're going to be participants in this war whether we allow them in the Order or not," Mr. Weasley explained. "At least this way, we will know what they're up to and we might be able to have some control over their actions."

Mrs. Weasley sighed heavily. "It's the safest way for them to help. They will not sit idly by."

"Which was exactly what our winning argument was," Fred said to Harry and Ginny. "I imagine if you two use the same tactic, they may let you in as well…"

"Don't get any ideas," Mr. Weasley interrupted. Mrs. Weasley looked positively infuriated at the suggestion that her youngest child and the Boy Who Lived should join such a dangerous clan. Mr. Weasley continued. "You're not of age yet, and even then… then it could be over. For the better, of course," he added.

"This isn't proper dinnertime conversation," Mrs. Weasley said. "And I wouldn't count your chickens before they hatch, boys. You've not been inducted yet." There was a glimmer of mother's hope in her eyes. "So I was thinking that tomorrow, if the weather is not too terrible, we'll all take a trip to Diagon Alley for some last minute shopping."

"And to see the joke shop," George interjected, turning to Harry. "It's quite amazing, if I do say so myself. We've had some big sellers this holiday season. We could give you a real deal on the last of our Dainty Diabolical Dragon Eggs…"

Harry grinned. It felt good to be home.

When supper was almost ready, Harry quietly slipped away from the kitchen and stumbled up to Ron's room in the evening darkness. His door was only open a crack, and there was no light coming from his room. Harry hesitated. Perhaps he was sleeping. He quietly knocked on the door.

"I'm not hungry," Ron replied grumpily. "Go away."

"Ron, can I come in a minute?"

Ron sighed. "Not now, Harry. I'm busy."

"Busy sulking," he muttered. "Come on, Ron. Let me in."

"The door's open, isn't it?" Ron grumbled.

With a quiet creak, Harry opened Ron's bedroom door. Ron was sitting on his bed, a single candle lit on his nightstand. Harry had rarely seen him looking so miserable. He silently sat down at the foot of the bed. "What's wrong?"

Ron scoffed. "Do you even need to ask?"

"I supposed not." Harry chewed his lower lip nervously. He wasn't sure what to say. Nothing he'd ever learned in life had prepared him for an end to his two best friends' romance. "Can I ask you something? Something that's been bothering me this whole time, ever since you and Hermione first… first got together?"

He wasn't sure if Ron nodded in the darkness, but Harry was prepared to ask him the question even without his permission. "Why did you want to keep it a secret?" Harry asked. "Why did you want to hide the fact that you and Hermione were together?"

Ron didn't speak for a moment, which felt like an hour to Harry. "You saw what happened when word got 'round about you and Gin, didn't you?"

"Yes, I experienced it first-hand," Harry replied, confused. "But what does that have to do with you and Hermione?"

"Everything," Ron replied. "Really, I wanted to tell everyone. I wanted to shout it from the top of the Astronomy Tower that I was dating Hermione Granger." He sighed. "But you saw how everyone reacted. How Parvati and Lavender spread those rumors like wildfire. I just didn't want to be embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?" Harry questioned. "You're embarrassed of Hermione?"

Ron shook his head. "No. Quite the opposite. I didn't want people to come up to her and say, 'He's not good enough for you, Hermione.' You heard what Hannah said when we were on the Muggle Studies field trip."

"But why should it matter what other people say?" Harry asked. He knew that Ron was more self-conscious than he was, but he never thought he would let it stand in the way of something so important as his relationship with Hermione.

"They may be right." Harry was about to protest, but Ron continued. "Hermione is practically a genius. And she's beautiful, too. What would she possibly want with someone like me?"

"Someone like you?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Nothing more than a beggar coming from a poor wizarding family. You even said so yourself. A beggar's costume suits me."

Harry remembered back to that fateful night of the field trip. "Ron, I was only joking, I didn't mean it."

"But it's true. I don't have a vault full of gold in Gringotts."

"But Hermione's not shallow like that," Harry replied, feeling terribly guilty. "She can see past rags and riches. Being the wealthiest wizard in the world wouldn't win her over."

"It wouldn't hurt, either."

"Ron, you don't need money. You're the Quidditch captain. You're a Prefect."

"Quidditch captain and Prefect by default," Ron replied. "The runner up to positions that should have been held by the great Harry Potter."

"Come on, Ron. You know that's not true…"

"Look, Harry, I just need to be alone for a while, okay?" he snapped angrily. He blew out the candle on the tabletop and the room plunged into darkness. Harry frowned and quietly left the bedroom.

He understood that this had more to do with him than he realized. However, Harry wasn't going to let Ron wallow in his own self-pity forever. It was partly his fault that Ron and Hermione had split up, and he was going to do everything in his power to get them back together again, even if it took its toll on their friendship.

But what surprised Harry the most was that Ron felt like a fraud. He didn't think he deserved all of the awards and benefits that he had received. Harry knew that he deserved them. It was one thing to save the world at the end of the day, but to stand by the hero and rarely play one himself was a deed that should not go without reward.

Ron had earned everything, even his goodnight kisses with Hermione, and Harry would do anything he could to make sure that his friends were happy.

By now, Harry was desperate to read Eva's letter. With everyone downstairs and Ron sulking in his room, he decided it was safe to pull it out of his pocket. Quietly and carefully, he pulled out the piece of parchment and unwrapped it.

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you? I hope your midterms weren't too awful. Nora was concerned about her Potions final, but I assured her she'll do fine._

_No, I don't really have any plans for the holidays. I used to clean for an old couple in London, and they've allowed me to rent out their flat over-looking the river. I brought Nora there for trick-or-treating last year for Halloween, and she absolutely fell in love with the place. The owners will be off with their family in the states, so they have allowed me to house-sit for the holidays._

_I really try to make the holidays special for Nora. They're hard on her. I've almost gotten everything on her Christmas list except for these things called Gobstones. I've never heard of them, nor seen them when I went shopping in Hogsmeade. I suppose I should have asked the Weasley twins about them – they would know for sure._

_I really would like to do something special for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They have been so good to me as well. Perhaps if we put our heads together we can think of a way to show our gratitude. We really ought to get together during the holidays. Just name the time and place and Nora and I will be there._

_Yours,_

_Eva_

Harry was grinning like an idiot. Even if, by the sounds of it, she only wanted to get together to discuss paying back the Weasleys, he would still get to spend time with her over the holidays. Though in his fantasies, her little sister was not there.

_Yours_. Harry liked the sound of that. For it was only fair that if she had his heart, he had a little of hers as well.

"What's this?"

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as Ginny popped up the stairs and snatched the letter from his fingertips.

"Hey! Give it back!" Harry demanded. He tried to take it from her grip, but she held it just far enough away from him so that she could read it but he couldn't reach it.

Harry watched nervously as her eyes scanned the parchment. "Wait a minute, this is from that girl at the platform, isn't it?"

He sighed. "Yes." There was no use denying it, though he wasn't quite sure how Ginny would feel about him receiving an almost-love letter from another girl. But instead, she turned to him with a bright grin on her face.

"I say, Harry, is this who you were trying to talk to me about a few weeks ago?" But she didn't wait for him to reply, because she already knew the answer. "I knew there was something between the two of you. You both grin like idiots when you're around each other. This is perfect."

Harry snatched the letter back and folded it up neatly. "Perfect?"

Ginny nodded. "Certainly. What better way to make your first move than under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve?"

"Oh no, I don't think so, Ginny."

"Why not?" she questioned. "It's perfectly romantic and the best way to show that you want more than friendship."

"Listen, we've only known each other for a few months," he stammered. "I've made some big mistakes. I don't think she feels that way about me."

"She wrote _yours_, didn't she? It's not even the standard _yours truly_. Just _yours_."

"You're reading more into it than you should be," Harry said.

"Don't you know what happens after _yours_?"

"No," Harry answered, confused.

"_Love_," Ginny said simply. "I'm a girl. I know these things. It's a natural progression."

Harry tried hard not to show how infinitely happy that made him. "You're nuts, Gin. You've lost it. What are you doing up here anyways?" He tired to steer her back towards the stairs.

"Dad told me to get you and Ron down for supper. What's he doing, anyway?"

Harry sighed. "Drowning in his misery. Afraid part of it is my fault, really."

Ginny shook her head. "Nonsense. The only thing that got Ron into his predicament was his own ego. I'm sure mum will bring him up something later." She turned and rushed ahead of him down the stairs. "And Harry, think about what I suggested. A girl like Eva is not going to wait around forever."

Harry was surprised she was taking it so well, but then he realized that was his own ego. Ginny began erasing him from that part of her heart long ago. He had to wonder if she was right, though. Did he have the nerve to try to pull anything on Christmas Eve?


	32. Shopping in Diagon Alley

**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO**

**Shopping in Diagon Alley**

The joke shop was even more extraordinary than Harry had envisioned it. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had evolved significantly. Harry chuckled when he remembered when they were caught printing up order forms back at the Burrow. Fred and George had most definitely done well for the first year of business.

As Harry walked up and down the freshly restocked isles of gags and gifts, his coins clanged together in his pocket with each step. They had stopped at Gringotts to pick up some money for their last-minute Christmas shopping. He had felt incredibly guilty when he reached his vault, filled with all of the money from his parents. But he was happy to see the Weasleys had more money in their vault than the last time he was with them. He imagined that expenses were a little less now that they didn't have to worry about buying school things for the twins, nor supporting them. They had overnight riches from the success of their store.

Ginny had explained to them that it was a tradition on Christmas Eve for everyone to pick one gift to open up after the meal. He had already picked up some things in Hogsmeade for Ron, Ginny, and Hermione, as well as a few nice plugs for Mr. Weasley he'd saved from the past summer with the Dursleys. For the twins, he bought them a magical address book that organized clients by name, location, or species. He still needed to buy something for Mrs. Weasley and Remus, and because Nora and Eva were going to be at the dinner too, he wanted to make sure they had something to open up as well. The only trouble was he didn't have any idea what to buy for them.

The twins had really outdone themselves with some of the items in the store. Harry caught Ron stocking up on his Skiving Snackboxes. There was a display marked "Holiday Special" with some new flavors on it. He picked out a handful of Peppermint Ice, a tiny chew with red and white stripes. They claimed to give someone such a terrible case of the chills that his nose would run and his eyes water until frost gathered on his eyelashes.

But on the other side of the display, something else caught Harry's attention. There was a set of Gobstones underneath some books with empty insides to hide things in. That was just what Nora needed for Christmas. It was perfect. With any luck, Eva still didn't know what one was.

Harry went up to the counter to pay George. "Aren't you a little old to be playing children's games?"

He shrugged. "It's not for me. It's a gift."

"That's what they all say," George replied. "Just last week we had an old woman in here buying some Firejack Crackers – you know, the kind that explodes. She said they were for her grandchildren, but Fred swears he saw her in the Leaky Cauldron with bright orange lips the next day."

Harry, having no clue what Firejack Crackers were, paid him, and then Mr. and Mrs. Weasley said they had some Christmas shopping to do themselves. Everyone decided to split up for a few hours.

Ron, who was still in a sour mood, followed Harry outside and they window shopped silently together, until Ron mentioned the bracelet he got for Hermione. "It matches the necklace, heart and all," he said sadly. "I can't give it to her now."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

Ron shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "She's not my girlfriend anymore. We're not even on speaking terms. Imagine if I gave her such a gift…"

"Her eyes would probably light up and she'd throw her arms around you and give you a big, wet kiss," Harry laughed.

Ron, however, frowned. "She'd probably throw it back in my face she's so mad at me."

"I don't think so," Harry replied. "Even though she said you're through, I don't believe it. There's still a few days left between now and Christmas Eve. She'll be missing you. And not only that, everyone gets into that special, anything-can-happen mood around Christmastime. That's part of the magic."

"When did you become such a romantic?"

Harry shrugged. "Look, I'll I'm saying is that it's good for couples to fight. It's healthy. And I think that this was just a fight, nothing more. Hermione's coming to the Burrow for a reason on Christmas Eve, and I don't think it's because she loves your mum's cooking." When Ron looked puzzled, he continued. "She's coming to see you. To salvage what she can."

"Do you really think so?"

He nodded. "If it was really over, she would have ended it in a peaceful fashion. You know how she hates to leave things unfinished. You infuriate her; that's probably why she likes you so much."

For the first time in days, a smile broke out on Ron's face. "Yeah. I guess you're right. Thanks, Harry." He stopped walking. "Say, I was looking to buy mum one of those new contraptions that are supposed to scare away the lawn gnomes from the garden. It's a bit expensive. Want to chip in?"

"Sure," Harry replied. He had de-gnomed the garden before, and knew what a hassle it was. Harry had to wonder if this was really a gift for Mrs. Weasley or for Ron. But Harry split the cost and said that he should probably get his mom some flowers too, and he agreed.

Ron went off to buy the gift and Harry found himself alone at last. However, he still didn't know what to get Remus or Eva for Christmas.

As he strolled through the streets of Diagon Alley, he was amazed at how many people were wandering about. And not all of them were witches and wizards – he spotted a hag, some dwarves, and even two hairy creatures he couldn't recognizestanding outside of the Leaky Cauldron sharing a pipe. Everyone was out and about for their last-minute Christmas shopping.

After some deliberation, Harry decided to get Remus a book for Christmas. He seemed to enjoy reading in his spare time – or at least when he couldn't fall asleep at night. The best place to start was Flourish and Blotts.

As Harry stepped inside the shop, he could smell the old books, mixed with the scent of nutmeg. There were red streamers and snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. It was very welcoming. One of the wizards working behind the counter offered him some cider. It smelled like the store did, and when he took a sip, it warmed him up inside, all the way to his toes.

"Can I help you with anything, young sir?" asked the attendant. He was wearing a green velvet vest with a patch on it that said "Biggins" and underneath it had his title, "Dusting Specialist."

Harry had planned on just browsing through the store, but now that he was inside, he wasn't quite sure where to begin. "I'm looking for a gift for my… er…" Harry wasn't quite sure what relation Remus was to him anymore. "My friend. A close friend. More like a… father figure, really." Self-consciously, Harry pressed the bangs of his unruly hair against his forehead. If the sales clerk recognized him as Harry Potter and knew he was buying a gift for a father figure, he might have more questions than Harry wanted to answer.

"And what sort of books does he fancy?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I'm not entirely sure. But I know he likes to read when he can't fall asleep."

"Then perhaps you'd be interested in one of the novels in our insomnia section." The clerk led Harry to one end of the store, where there were thick books with tiny print. One, entitled _Habits and Habitats of the Midnight Moths_, had a picture of a man sleeping with a moth perched on his nose, and every time he snored, the moth's wings would flutter. Just looking at it made him feel sleepy. "They're guaranteed to put anyone asleep within the first ten pages or we'll refund your money."

Now Harry wasn't sure that Remus was reading to fall asleep. Surely, if he was really trying to fall asleep, he would use some kind of potion. "I don't think this is what I'm looking for." He paused. "What about werewolves?" he questioned.

"We've got a whole row dedicated to the study of those deadly creatures," the clerk said. Harry followed him to another section. When Harry glanced at the books, he saw that most of them were about defending yourself against them, or about how inhuman they were. It was definitely not what he was looking for. Harry shifted his weight from foot-to-foot uneasily. "Perhaps it'd be better if I browsed for a bit."

The clerk nodded. "Just let me know if you need any help. There are some more books on the second landing – our new Muggle section is up there as well." He gestured to a staircase.

"Thanks," Harry replied. The clerk went back to his station. Harry drank some more of the cider and glanced around the first floor. He had been in Flourish and Blotts many times before but never looking for anything but his schoolbooks. He decided that the best place to start would be upstairs, and then work his way down.

The section was quite small, but Harry recognized some of the books from his Muggle Studies class. There was a copy of _To Kill a Mocking Bird_ and _The Great Gatsby_, which Harry was assigned to read over the holidays from Professor Avis. There were many books that he'd never seen before, even during his childhood as a Muggle. He was surprised that many of them were American novels. How did Flourish and Blotts get a hold of the books, anyway?

Finally, Harry settled on buying a trilogy of books about odd creatures called hobbits. It was a great epic adventure, and they sounded like he would enjoy reading them, so he thought that Remus would find the stories interesting as well.

Harry took his things and went back to the clerk, who congratulated him on his excellent purchases. He was just about to leave when something behind the counter caught his eye.

_It's perfect_, Harry thought. Eva would love it.

Harry and Ron were shaken awake on Christmas Eve morning by Ginny. "You two had better get up," she said, her voice still hoarse from sleeping. "Mum's gone crazy." The two of them quickly got up and dressed and went downstairs.

Mrs. Weasley was in a frenzy, mixing concoctions by hand and directing wooden spoons to do it with her wand. "'Bout time you two were up. Grab a quick bite to eat. We've got lots to do before dinner tonight."

Harry found that Mrs. Weasley was not exaggerating. Everyone was forced to clean the ground floor of the Burrow from top to bottom. Ginny even called her mother a slave driver when she had her polish all of the candlestick holders by hand – and there were nearly fifty of them in the living room alone.

"Kind of makes you wish we were back de-gnoming the garden, doesn't it?" Ron whispered, glancing outside at the snow-covered ground.

Harry grinned. It was the first time Ron had spoken to him all day. Perhaps all of the dusting and mopping made him feel like he was getting a fresh, clean start.

When it was well past afternoon tea time, Mrs. Weasley announced that everyone needed to drop what they were doing and quickly get ready, because people would be arriving in a few short minutes. Harry and Ron both excitedly rushed up to Ron's bedroom. Harry had to dig down into the bottom of his trunk to find a nice pair of unwrinkled trousers.

As he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he tried desperately to get his hair to lie flat. One would think that after all his years of struggling, Harry would have given up on any attempt to fix it. However, he never lacked the hope, but after a long, well-fought battle, he surrendered to genetics and let it stick out.

When he finally did make it downstairs, everyone was already dressed in their best and waiting for the first guests to arrive. Ginny looked amazing. She had her red hair pulled back with a ribbon of sparkling tinsel and sterling silver earrings hung from her ear lobes. Even Harry couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was. The twins were also dressed stylishly in what appeared to be Muggle sport coats and boots made of dragon hides, just as Bill had. Harry suspected that this was only the beginning of many extravagant purchases Fred and George would make. Ron was looking quite surly as he sat at the kitchen table, struggling with the plaid tie around his neck. Finally, Mrs. Weasley came over to fix it and put him out of his misery.

There was a knock on the door and Mr. Weasley quickly rushed over and opened it. "Remus, old chap! Merry Christmas! Come in, come in."

Harry jumped out of his seat and rushed over to meet him, but the sight of Remus made his heart clench in his throat.

He looked awful. Much worse than Harry ever remembered him looking during his third year when he taught at Hogwarts. His eyes were clouded, and there were dark circles beneath them. He looked thinner, but somehow, wilder. He was more anxious than exhausted. His hands shook – almost unnoticeably – as he unbuttoned his thick down jacket.

"Hello, Harry," he said with a smile. "Merry Christmas!" He stepped forward with his arms out-stretched, and Harry quickly embraced him. Harry could almost feel his bones, but tried not to notice. "I apologize, Molly. I'll only be able to stay for a quick dinner. Full moon's tonight."

Harry had left his Moon Guide for safekeeping in his trunk ever since he left Hogwarts, and he'd forgotten to even consult it lately. He should have known.

"It's rotten luck," Remus continued, "that it falls on Christmas Eve."

"It's all right," Harry replied, managing a grin. "I'm just glad you're here now." And he meant it. It wouldn't be a family Christmas without Remus. He was just about to ask where Tonks was when he heard a car pull up and another knock on the door.

This time, the twins answered, and for one fearful second Harry was afraid that it was Eva and Nora at the door and he wouldn't get to greet them, when he saw head full of red hair. It was Charlie. He had an armload of gifts and an overnight bag thrown over his shoulder. "Merry Christmas!" he shouted heartily.

Ginny and Mrs. Weasley both ran to the door and greeted him with open arms. Remus plopped down on a kitchen chair and gestured for Harry to do the same. He couldn't help but notice how much older Remus looked in the dim kitchen light than the last time Harry had seen him.

"I'll finally get to meet your girl tonight, eh?" he asked.

Harry felt himself blushing. "She's not my girl."

"What's this? Harry's got a girlfriend?" Fred cried. Remus chuckled. "Who?"

"No one," Harry replied immediately. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"But who is this mysterious "she" you referred to?" George asked. "Is it someone we know?"

Harry glared at Remus, but he said nothing, and didn't look the least bit sympathetic for what he'd just caused.

"But Harry, don't you remember what we talked about last summer? About how all girls – and women – are bad?" Charlie asked sauntered over to the kitchen table and took a seat, putting his feet up on the chair next too him, which earned a smack on the back of the head from Mrs. Weasley.

"Put your feet down!" she scolded.

Charlie rubbed the back of his head. "You've betrayed the sacredness of the single man."

Harry shook his head. "If you really want to know who betrayed us, it was Remus." He shot a nasty look at him. "Ask him about his girlfriend problems. Eva is certainly _not_ my girlfriend yet…"

Instantly, Harry knew he made a grave mistake in saying her name. He quickly shut up and felt his cheeks turn as red as Ron's hair.

The twins broke out into mischievous smiles as Harry tried to recover. "I mean… we're just friends, nothing more."

"What do you mean by 'yet'?" Charlie questioned. "And who's Eva? Not one of those girls I saw walking in this direction from the new bus stop?"

"You left them to walk!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "Charlie, how could you?"

"How was I supposed to know to pick them up?" he asked innocently.

"I told you they were coming two days ago!" Mr. Weasley said. "And you know who Eva is. You've seen her at the meetings half a dozen times…"

"Meetings?" Harry interrupted. "What meetings?"

Mr. Weasley looked uneasy, but Charlie looked as though he had been trying to extract that very information out of his father and had a successful grin on his face. "Never mind." Mr. Weasley sighed. "It's not that far of a walk."

Harry did not find any of this information reassuring. He sunk low into his chair. What if the twins said something tonight? One slip of the tongue and his chances with Eva could be ruined. Fred slapped him on the back. "Don't worry, Harry, we'll behave," he said, nodding to George. But Harry wasn't certain he could trust them.

Hours of silence seemed to pass by at a snail's pace before there was another knock on the door. This time, Harry didn't hesitate, and quickly ran to the door, making sure that he beat the twins. He quickly threw the door open.

"Hi Harry!" Hermione cried, giving him a one-armed hug. The other arm was full of gifts. Harry tried not to seem disappointed. "Look who I found, just down the road."

Harry looked past Hermione and saw Eva and Nora at the doorstep, looking a little intimidated by the Burrow. Nora was in awe of the outside. Harry remembered the first time he saw the Burrow and how it looked as though it was held together by magic and nothing else.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," Eva greeted and gave him a hug. Her touch warmed him up inside, but the warmth was nearly snuffed out as she hugged everyone else as well. There was no special treatment for him.

The twins helped the girls with their coats as Hermione and Eva were properly introduced. Hermione's parents had dropped her off, and Hermione recognized Nora at once and stopped to see where she was headed. "I didn't know it was going to be such a full house for Christmas."

"We're not spending the night," Eva said, smiling at Hermione. "Nora and I are going to have a… well, a Muggle kind of Christmas."

"You need those once in a while," Hermione agreed. The two of them seemed to be getting along well as they entered the kitchen. Ginny quickly joined the girls to get reacquainted.

"I say, that's a beautiful group of girls we've got here tonight," Remus whispered to Harry and Ron. Harry had to agree. Both Eva and Hermione's beauty rivaled Ginny's. Eva was wearing a red sweater that hung loosely around her shoulders, exposing her collarbones. Hermione had straightened her hair as she did the night of the Yule Ball.

But Ron scowled. "Disgusting. My sister's in that group, you know?"

Harry and Remus chuckled as Mrs. Weasley called them all to sit down at the table for supper. She had already set it – using some kind of spell – and there was so much food Harry could hardly believe his eyes.

As everyone was ushered to the table, Harry found some courage somewhere inside of him and managed to snag Eva by the arm. He pulled out her chair for her. She thanked him, her eyes sparkling, and Harry felt that familiar warmth inside. He quickly took the seat next to her and avoided making any eye contact with the twins, for fear of them making some joke about his sudden chivalry.

When he glanced around the table, he saw so many smiling faces. He felt warm again, but it was a different kind of warmth than what Eva gave him. Everyone was glowing with the holiday spirit. Harry had found another home, a new home, and even though Hogwarts would always make him feel safe and welcome, he knew that the Burrow always had room for him as well. He grinned foolishly, then helped himself to some ham.

Had Harry not been blinded by the holiday spirit, he would have seen the anxiety on Mrs. Weasley's face, or the way Mr. Weasley kept glancing at his watch, or even the discreet, empty chair at the table. And had he been in the living room, he would have noticed some suspicious activity on the Weasley family clock.


	33. A Christmas Surprise

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE**

**A Christmas Surprise**

There was a sudden "pop" from the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley both set down their forks in anticipation. Harry turned around, so that he was facing the entrance to the living room. If he didn't know any better, it sounded as though someone had just apparated into the other room.

Ginny stopped talking in mid-sentence as the mystery guest appeared from the shadows of the Christmas tree in the living room and stepped into the kitchen.

"I'm home," said a tiny, meek voice. Harry didn't recognize it at first, but when he saw the outrage on Ron, George, and Fred's faces he knew who it was.

Percy, looking tired and more rugged than in his Hogwarts days, was standing in the doorway. Instantly, Mrs. Weasley was on her feet and threw her arms around Percy, her eyes already wet with tears. However, George also stood up, and approached Percy with his shoulders squared and his hands wound into tightly coiled fists at his side.

"Just what the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

Harry was shocked. He'd rarely seen George so angry – except for on the Quidditch field bitterly protesting a foul. Eva, confused, turned to Harry, looking worried. Secretively, he reached out and patted her hand in her lap, as if to reassure her that everything was all right. But when he tried moved his hand away she reached and intertwined his fingers with her own. Even in the chaos that followed, Harry felt hazy from the warmth of Eva's fingertips.

"I was invited," Percy snapped. "It's my home too."

"Traitors are not welcome here," Fred piped in.

"I thought you two would be done with that rubbish by now," Percy said. "I can see you haven't matured in the least."

"This isn't the time to get into that argument!" Mr. Weasley shouted. He spoke sternly. "This is Christmas Eve. It is a time for family. It is a time for forgiveness. But most of all, it is time to be thankful for what we all have. And whether you like it or not, you have each other. All your mother and I want is for all of us to be together for one night and to be able to get through it without beginning the next world war." He paused. "I want to see you boys shake hands and call it a truce for tonight."

"No way," George replied. Harry realized that he must have been hit the hardest by Percy's betrayal. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll be civil with him, but I'll not shake his hand." The two brothers held each other's gaze for a moment, then George took his seat at table.

"Have a seat, Percy," Mrs. Weasley said. She pulled out the chair between Mr. Weasley and Remus. Everyone sat down and started eating again. The room was quiet except for the sound of clanking forks against Mrs. Weasley's good china. Harry regretfully let go of Eva's hand.

The atmosphere had changed substantially. No one spoke. The tension was unbearable. Both of the twins looked as though they were ready to explode in anger at any moment. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley kept exchanging worried glances. Percy concentrated on the plate in front of him and did not look up.

Harry was trying not to think about holding Eva's hand and concentrating on not blushing. He had so many butterflies in his stomach that he could barely breathe, let alone eat. In the silence, he thought about what Ginny had said about cornering Eva under the mistletoe. Did the Weasleys even have it hanging anywhere in the Burrow? Did he have the courage to take action?

Courage? Courage? Of course he had courage! Eva even noticed it. He'd faced Voldemort on numerous occasions. But why did kissing her seem to take so much more bravery than facing the Dark Lord?

The meal was silent until everyone sat back, satisfied. Mrs. Weasley got to her feet. "Everyone ready for pudding?"

"That was delicious, Molly." Remus announced, leaning back on his chair and adjusting the waistband of his pants. But when Harry glanced at his place, he saw that he'd barely touched it. He had never been around Remus much before the full moon. He didn't realize what kind of a toll it took on him. "I don't think I can eat another thing."

"You probably won't want to," Ginny muttered. "Ouch!"

One of the twins had kicked her under the table. They both stood up. "We had the honor of making the pudding this year." They disappeared into the kitchen and came out with a giant cookie sheet that had a cake with a replica of the Christmas tree in the living room on it. It was even dripping golden frosting. Mrs. Weasley cleared an empty spot on the table so that they could set it down.

"Wow," Nora breathed. "It's beautiful."

"It's Devil's Food flavored," George said with a wink.

"If it tastes half as good as it looks, you boys did a wonderful job," Mr. Weasley said.

"We figured we'd better start learning to cook," Fred said. "Especially if we're ever going to move out and live on our own."

Mrs. Weasley made a clicking noise in the back of her throat. "Enough chatter. Let's cut the cake."

George picked up a knife and was about to cut into the cake, when he suddenly stopped, and glanced at Fred. "You know, I've been thinking. And mum, dad, you're right. It is the holidays, and we really should all try to get along because we're family. So I think it's only fair, after all he's been through, that we let the guest of honor do it." He turned the knife and held the handle out to Percy.

Percy, a little bewildered, glanced at his father, who nodded encouragingly. He took the knife. Harry had a bad feeling about this, but he didn't say anything. Perhaps, for once, Fred and George were serious. Maybe they really were trying to make amends with Percy.

"All right," Percy said. "I'll do it."

He stood between the twins, who suspiciously backed away from the table. Harry was just about to tell him not to do it, when Percy leaned over and slid the knife into the cake.

There was a loud bang as gold and green frosting exploded all over the room. The chocolate inside was all over the table and the walls, and even on the candle chandelier above their heads. Percy had gotten the worst of it, but the cake had been placed between Mr. Weasley and Remus, and both were covered in frosting. Even Harry had some on his glasses and in his hair.

Shocked, everyone sat in dead silence. Mrs. Weasley's face was beginning to redden with anger, and just as she was about to explode, there was a soft giggle.

Nora had been trying to hold back her laughter, but she couldn't any longer, and immediately her giggle turned into a squealing laugh, and Eva joined in. Both of them were covered with frosting and chocolate as well.

The laughter spread quickly. The twins glanced sheepishly at each other. Mr. Weasley and Charlie laughed heartily. Even Percy had a broad smile on his face.

"What am I going to do with you two?" Mrs. Weasley laughed.

"Just how did you manage to pull that off?" Charlie said, wiping frosting off his chin. Remus, who was still laughing, blew his nose in his napkin to get the frosting out of it.

"Er, well, it wasn't really cake," Fred explained. "It was a prototype of our Un-Pop-Able Balloons covered in pudding and frosting. Too bad about the balloon really. We'll definitely need further testing."

"Why on earth…?" Mr. Weasley began. He shook his head. "I don't even want to know."

Everyone took their seats and tried to recover. There were still some more outbursts of laughter. Hermione and Ginny both had frosting all over their dresses but they didn't seem to care. Harry glanced at Eva and saw that she had frosting in her hair on the side of her head that was facing the cake. She was laughing too. It had been so long since he had heard her laughter that he couldn't help but join in.

"That was great!" Nora cried. She had frosting on the tip of her nose and was trying to lick it off.

"I'm afraid we don't have any desert now. Or leftovers," Mrs. Weasley muttered, glancing at the pudding-filled table.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Eva said, standing up. She ran over to the doorway where the twins had hung her coat and brought over a brown package that looked like a pizza box. "I brought something for desert."

"Dear, you didn't have to do that," Mrs. Weasley said as she cleared a spot on the table.

"It's about time I paid you back for something," Eva replied, smiling. "Besides, it came in handy now." She set the box down and opened it up. Immediately, Harry was greeted with the sweet smell of pecans and cinnamon.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"It's chocolate pecan pie. A secret family recipe."

"Our mum used to make it fresh every Christmas Eve," Nora said quietly, looking down at her napkin in her lap. Her eyes were sad.

Harry could see the uneasiness in Eva's face as she watched her younger sister. "Aye, but I'm getting better at making it just like hers, don't you think?" she questioned. Harry could see that this was why Eva tried to make Christmas perfect for Nora – the look on her face was enough to break any sister's heart.

Nora looked up and smiled meekly. "I guess so."

"You guess so?" Eva grinned broadly, thought it didn't quite reach her eyes, and tousled her sister's hair. "C'mon, you can cut it." She handed Nora a knife and Mrs. Weasley brought out some empty plates.

When Harry got his piece, he couldn't help but take another sniff. The smell reminded him of something. He swore he recognized the aroma from somewhere. Perhaps it was a dream.

Fred and George's prank was actually a blessing in disguise. It had taken the edginess out of the Burrow and replaced it with laughter. Harry sat back on the loveseat in the living room and watched as the twins showed Nora some of their latest gadgets. Eva was sitting next to him, and he was feeling more comfortable around her as the night went on.

Harry was painstakingly searching the ceilings for mistletoe. Last Christmas, he had been the one who was caught off guard beneath the mistletoe. Now he wanted to be the one making his move, instead of the other way around. He couldn't believe that there wasn't any hanging in the Burrow. He'd always thought of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as being at least a little romantic. Wasn't it a tradition to have it?

"What are you looking at?" Eva questioned, following Harry's gaze.

"Oh… er, I was just looking at the treetop," Harry explained. Why did he blush every time she spoke to him? "Did… did you enjoy the dinner?"

She nodded. "I can't remember the last time I've eaten a better meal. The food was great. The company was…" She met his eyes. "Even better."

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Well, desert was excellent. You really saved the day."

She scoffed. "It was nothing."

"No, I mean it. No desert on Christmas Eve is like… no eggs on Easter." He realized that Eva saved the day sometimes too. At least they had that in common. Harry saved lives, and Eva saved Christmas desert. And somehow, at that moment, he felt as if both dangers were equal.

He also felt like an idiot for the way he was talking to her. He'd never felt so strongly about someone in his life. But at that moment, he felt like if he didn't feel Eva's touch, he would explode. On impulse – and using some good old-fashioned Gryffindor courage – he reached out and grabbed her hand. She smiled at him and scooted closer to him on the couch. So close that he could feel her bare thigh that wasn't hidden beneath her skirt against his leg. She let go of his hand so he could lift his arm over her shoulders and hold her closer.

Harry was beginning to wish he'd tried that maneuver the first time he'd been in her room in Hogsmeade. He turned and looked at her, and was surprised to see that she was a little red in the face as well. But she was smiling – truly smiling – and her eyes were sparkling in the firelight. It took all of Harry's strength not to lean over and kiss her right there in front of everyone in the Weasley's living room.

Fred and George performed a short, but colorful Christmas fireworks display in one corner of the living room, and everyone was amazed at the sight. The twins took a bow and asked for a volunteer for their latest experiment Skiving Snackboxes.

"They're our number one best-seller," Fred said. "We decided to come out with some Christmas flavors that people can use to get out of their nasty family get-togethers." He glanced at Mrs. Weasley. "Not ours, of course."

"What's a Skiving Snackbox?" Nora asked.

"You mean you don't know?" George asked, amazed. "I guess we didn't advertise enough to our Hogwarts students." He cleared his throat. "Dear Nora, a Skiving Snackbox is your answer to get out of that nasty test or boring lecture at anytime you desire."

"You mean, they're for skiving classes?"

"Exactly," Fred said.

"But why would I want to do that?" Nora questioned. "I love my classes. I hardly know any magic or anything about the wizarding world at all. Why would I want to skip my lessons?"

"Oy, she's turning out to be a proper brain, she is," George said. "Nearly bad as Granger there."

Hermione glared at the twins. "Don't listen to them, Nora. There's nothing wrong with being interested in school."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Hermione's hardly ever missed a class and she's one of the best witches in the school."

Hermione appeared to be flattered by Ron's statement, but Ginny rolled her eyes. "Now you're just sucking up," she muttered.

Harry laughed. Even though Ron and Hermione were sitting on the couch together, they were so far apart they could have been on separate continents. But at least they were speaking.

"Nora's a lost cause," Fred sighed.

"A lost customer," George added sadly.

"And she'd better be," Eva said. "If I ever hear of you skiving off your classes you'll be in big trouble."

Everyone laughed. Harry felt like the luckiest guy in the world, sitting with Eva in his arms. She had a sense of humor and responsibility. She was kind and caring. She was smart and witty. And she was gorgeous. He didn't even care that when she spoke everyone turned and gawked at them on the couch. He couldn't have been prouder to have a girl on his arm. He was just about to ask if she would reconsider about spending the night when Remus poked his head in the room. The adults, including Percy and Charlie, were having tea in the kitchen.

"Harry, I've got to get going," he said.

Harry glanced out the window and could see that the sun would be setting soon. The moon rise was coming swiftly. Harry reluctantly unwrapped his arm from Eva's shoulders and got up from the loveseat. "I'll be right back," he told her. "Don't go anywhere." She grinned back at him.

He didn't even try to hide his smile as he walked Remus to the door. But when he got a closer look at Remus, he saw what kind of rough shape he was in. He didn't look sick, but there was something odd about him. Something wild. He was a tad fidgety and seemed anxious.

"Are you going to be all right?" Harry asked.

He nodded. "I'm sorry about this, Harry. I wish I could stay longer."

"It's all right," Harry replied. "Where are you going from here?"

"The Order is taking care of me. Don't worry." His thin lips curved into a smile. "I promise I'll stop by again before you go back to school."

"Good," Harry replied. "I'd like that." There was an awkward moment where Harry wasn't sure if he should or not, but he was in such a fine mood that he couldn't think of a good reason not to. He leaned over and gave Remus a strong hug. After all, he was the closest thing he had to a father, and it was Christmas Eve. "Be careful," Harry whispered.

They parted. "I will. Merry Christmas." He turned and opened the door. "Oh, and Harry..."

"Yeah?" Harry answered, anxious to return to the living room and to Eva.

"Now I see why you wanted to sneak away from Hogwarts." He winked. "She's quite a girl."

Harry's smile grew ten times brighter. "She really is." Remus's approval sealed the deal. Harry was going to make sure that by the end of the night, Eva was going to be _his_ girl.

Remus shut the door behind him, but even the cold winter wind couldn't cool the warmth that Harry felt inside. He returned to the living room and took his seat next to Eva. Everyone was done with their tea in the kitchen and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing by the tree, holding hands. Charlie was sitting next to Eva, so Harry sat down on the arm of the loveseat closest to her.

"It's time to resurrect an old family tradition," Mr. Weasley announced. "I know that Bill is not with us tonight, and that we have some surrogate family members," he nodded at Nora, Eva, and Hermione, "but that's no reason not to have a proper Christmas Eve celebration."

"What's the tradition?" Nora questioned.

"Everyone gets to open one gift on Christmas Eve. But only one, no more."

"It was a little more exciting when we were kids," Charlie said quietly to Eva and Harry. "Best to play along." He winked and turned to his father. "Come on, dad, why can't we open them all?"

"Because then you'll not have any left for tomorrow," Mrs. Weasley said. She pulled out a bundle of gifts from underneath the tree. Harry spotted the one he'd bought for Eva immediately. In retrospect, he thought he'd bought her the wrong gift completely, and had half a mind take it from under the tree and not give it to her at all. Perhaps he should have been thinking more romantically.

One by one, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley handed a gift to everyone in the room but Nora and Eva. Harry had told him that he'd already bought gifts for the two of them and they didn't need to worry about the Finnigan sisters. Harry quickly got up from his seat and pulled out two packages. He handed one to Nora, who was sitting on the floor, and gave the other to Eva.

"Harry, you shouldn't have," she said, setting the heavy package in her lap.

"I don't know if you'll be thanking me when you see what it is," he muttered. "Open it."

Eva smiled at him, then quickly tore into the wrapping paper. She gasped when she saw what it was.

"You got her _Hogwarts: A History_!" Charlie cried. He'd been watching the two of them.

Eva laughed and quickly opened up the thick book, flipping through the colorful pages. Harry nervously started making excuses. "I know it doesn't seem very glamorous or anything, but you said you wanted to know about Hogwarts, and well, even though I've never read it, I know it has just about everything you've ever wanted to know about the school."

"It's actually quite good," Hermione said.

Eva turned to him, smiling. "It's perfect, Harry. Thank you." She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Harry was so overwhelmed he almost didn't realize that Nora had opened her gift as well.

"Gobstones!" she cried. "Excellent!"

Eva's eyes beamed with delight. "You're too much," she whispered. "Really, Harry. You're too good to us." There was a hint of tears in her eyes, and it melted Harry's heart.

"It's the least I could do for you after all you've done for me." He reached down and took her hand. He wanted desperately to be alone with her. "Are you sure you can't spend the night?"

Eva shook her head. "We've got to visit me mum." Her face seemed to harden at the thought. Harry had almost caught her with her guard down. She stiffened up.

"C'mon Harry, open your gift up," Ron said.

Harry looked around the room and saw that everyone else had received their Christmas sweaters with their initials on them. Even Hermione got one. Harry laughed, then quickly tore into his gift. It was a scarlet sweater that matched everyone else's, and the letter "H" was knitted on the front.

"Put it on everyone," Mr. Weasley said. "Eva, would you be kind enough to take a picture of us in front of the tree?"

"Certainly," Eva said, standing up. Mrs. Weasley fished out a camera from somewhere, and everyone grumbled as they stood and stretched, slipping their sweaters on over their fancy holiday clothing. They lined up carefully in front of the tree.

Eva peered through the lens. "Say cheese!"

"Cheese!"

And as cheesy as it was, Harry couldn't help but grin. So this was what it felt like to have a family. This is what it felt like to finally find someone to share a kiss with. This is what it felt like to be loved.


	34. The Last Goodnight

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR**

**The Last Goodnight**

A half-hour later Nora was curled up on the couch, snoozing lightly. The twins and Charlie had just finished another round of Gobstones. Harry had spent the time with his arm around Eva, whose eyelids were also getting quite droopy.

When the conversation had quieted to a lull, Eva sat up and stretched her arms. "We really ought to be going if we're to make the last bus."

"I could give you a ride," Charlie suggested.

"Or you could stay the night," Harry added.

She shook her head. "I can't," she whispered. "I promised…" her voice trailed off. "We just need to get going." She smiled and stood up. Harry couldn't help but watch her hips sway as she sauntered over to the couch and leaned over, shaking Nora.

"Come on, sleepy-head. We've got one more stop to make."

Nora sat up and yawned. She didn't object. Harry realized that visiting the cemetery where their mother was buried must have been their Christmas tradition. She collected her set of Gobstones and Eva grabbed her book.

"Here, let me get you a bag for those things," Mrs. Weasley said, rising from her seat. She returned with a cloth satchel. "I'd offer you some food, if we had any left over." She shot a glance at the twins, who exchanged grins.

Everyone walked the two of them to the door. Harry wanted more than anything to be alone with Eva. If only he could find the damn mistletoe. It was probably in some odd, secluded place.

"Are you really going back to London tonight?" Hermione questioned. "It's a quite a ways away."

Eva shrugged. "It's only a little over three hours. The night is still young." She lowered her voice. "And this way, by the time we get home Nora will be so tired I'll have time to set things up for tomorrow without her knowing." She winked at Harry.

"Thank you so much for everything," she continued. She helped Nora put on her jacket, and then she put on her own. "This has truly been one of the best Christmas Eves I've had in a long time. It has really meant so much to me, and to Nora, that you've included us."

"It was no trouble dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "Please, stop by again over the holidays. We've always got room for a few more."

"I'd like that," Eva replied. She glanced at Harry and grinned, her cheeks flushed. "Thank you for the gifts, Harry. I really appreciate them."

"You're welcome," he replied. He didn't want her to leave. He wished he could make her stay, somehow. Now that he was with her again, he didn't want their time together to end.

"At least let Charlie drive you to the bus stop," Mr. Weasley suggested.

But Eva stood firm. "It's a nice night outside. We'll be fine." She didn't want anybody's help.

"I love to walk in the snow," Nora added. "It's so peaceful." She tugged on Eva's sleeve.

Eva hesitated in the doorway. "Well, thank you everyone. And Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," everyone replied automatically. And to Harry, it felt as though just as soon as she had reappeared in his life, Eva was gone again. Outside the door.

Everyone was moving back into the living room, and Harry followed behind, his mood growing sourer by the second. He was staring at the floor, thinking of things he should have done, when he suddenly felt a smack on the back of his head.

"Harry!" Ginny cried. She half-whispered, half-yelled. "What's your problem?"

"My problem?" Harry said. "What are you talking about?"

"If _anyone_ has _ever _needed a last goodnight, it was Eva. And you just let her walk out that door?"

Harry was about to protest, but then he realized that she was right. What was his problem? If he wanted Eva, he was going to have to make a move. He had to do something. He took a deep breath and hurried back to the front door, throwing it open into the cool night air.

"Eva!" he cried. He could see the two sisters walking swiftly down the driveway. They weren't too far away.

Eva stopped and turned around. "Go ahead," Nora said. "I'll wait for you at the end of the driveway."

Harry watched as she jogged back up the driveway towards him. Her cheeks were red from the cold and so were her bare knees. They weren't covered by her skirt or her stockings.

"What is it, Harry?" Eva asked, breathless.

Harry suddenly found it very difficult to form words when he spoke. "I… er… well, I just… I… I didn't get the chance to say…" He paused. "Goodnight."

And from somewhere deep inside he pulled out all of the courage he could muster on the Weasleys' doorstep. He leaned forward and put his hands on Eva's cold cheeks and pulled her towards him, their lips meeting. Her cool lips felt like fire against his own as they mingled together. From somewhere far away, he heard a familiar musical duet, and he could almost taste the chocolate pecan pie they'd eaten for desert. As she pulled away from him, smiling broadly, face flushed, Harry had only one thought:

_The_ _third time's the charm_.

Harry could see that she was still stunned. He took his hands away from her face. "I… Thanks…" she said. "Goodnight, Harry."

Then it was Harry's turn to be surprised. She leaned close to him, and this time, she put her arms around his neck so that she could keep her balance steady. Harry closed his eyes and was once again greeted with the warmth of her kiss. She titled her head just right, and Harry slipped his tongue between her lips. She moaned, and held on even tighter around his neck.

It felt like they had been locked in their kiss for ages, but it was still not long enough for Harry. Eva pulled away for air. Harry grinned like an idiot. He could get used to kissing Eva Finnigan every night. He really could.

She returned his smile and pointed up at the door frame. "Look, mistletoe."

"So that's where the damn thing was," Harry muttered. "I've been looking for it all night."

Eva laughed. "Maybe we can use it again." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and let go of him. "Perhaps we'll stop by tomorrow to see if St. Nicolas brought you anything good."

"I don't need anything else for Christmas," Harry replied. He hated to watch her leave, but he knew that she had to go, and he knew that if she stayed in his sight another second he would have to kiss her again.

And he really, _really_ wanted to.

"Good night!" Eva called. She waved to him, then turned and jogged down the driveway, the satchel bouncing against her back. Harry watched her until she disappeared beneath the bright moon light.

He didn't notice the cold until he stepped back inside. Everyone was smirking. He knew that they had just seen them kissing, but he didn't care. Nothing could ruin his mood.

"I can't believe you bought her _Hogwarts: A History_ and you still got a goodnight kiss," Charlie said, shaking his head.

"Two, to be exact," Harry corrected him.

"Blimey, Harry, I hope you've never kissed Gin like that," George said. "There's a picture that would scar me for life."

Ginny reached over and swatted him on the back of the head the same way she smacked Harry. "Oh, shut up you git." She glanced over at her parents, who were whispering to each other.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "I think it's about time we all went up to bed."

"Harry, you'd better not try saying goodnight to me like that," Ron laughed.

"Come on, that's enough," Mrs. Weasley scolded. "The sooner you all get to bed the sooner Christmas will come."

Everyone groaned but they all stumbled up the stairs. But Mrs. Weasley stood perched at the bottom of the stairs. "Harry, dear, would you help give me a hand in the kitchen, please?"

"Sure," Harry replied, coming back down the stairs. He followed Mrs. Weasley into the kitchen, where she was directly the dishwashing with her wand. He thought that maybe she needed help scrubbing the walls after the exploding cake mishap, but he could see that everyone was already cleaned up. He supposed with a good cleaning charm it was much easier than elbow grease. She gestured for him to sit down.

"Harry, we need to have a little chat."

Harry gulped. He didn't like the sound of that. Come to think of it, it was rather odd that she wanted him to help with everything was already getting cleaned up with magic. Maybe this wasn't about lending her a hand.

He suddenly had a sickening feeling inside. Maybe she was going to tell him some bad news.

After a long silence, Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath finally spoke. "Harry, dear, I know that you're young and well…" She sighed. "Well, women – all women – like to be treated with respect. Even though you may want the same thing in the long run, you really need to take your time…"

Harry sat at the kitchen table, bewildered. Just what was she trying to say in this "little chat"?

"…And you shouldn't rush into things. There is a difference between lust and love, and even if it is love, you've really got to take your time… and there can't be any pressure at all…" She paused. "And you've got to remember that she is a Muggle. Muggles are different, in their own way… Am I making any sense?"

And then it dawned on Harry. She was trying to have The Talk with him. "Mrs. Weasley, are you trying to tell me about… er, the birds and the bees?"

She looked utterly confused. "The what? Why no, dear. I'm trying to talk to you about sex!"

"Oh god." Mortified, Harry buried his head in his arms across the table, and was almost feeling grateful that she was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream.

The two of them sprang from their seats at the kitchen table and ran to the front door. Mr. Weasley was already halfway down the stairs with his wand in his hand, and the others were not far behind him. Harry quickly pulled the door open.

He could see a tiny figure running up the driveway. "Nora?" he called. He ran out to meet her, and the others followed. Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were already in their night clothes. "What's going on?"  
"It's got her!" she cried. "It's got her! Harry, you've got to save her!" There were tears streaming down the girl's face. She was hysterical.

"Slow down, sweetheart," Mr. Weasley said. "Who's got her?"

"I… I don't know!" she stammered. "It's a dog. A wolf. I don't know. It's huge! It's got her."

"A wolf?" Harry questioned.

"Remus," Mr. Weasley whispered.

And then Harry realized what Nora was saying. Eva had been attacked. Attacked by a werewolf.

"Charlie, Percy, Fred, and George, get your wands out. You're coming with me. I want everyone else back inside with Molly." He turned to Nora, and stooped down to her eye level. She was breathing erratically and sobbing. "Nora, honey, where are they?"

"I'll take you to them!"

"No, it's too dangerous," Mr. Weasley said. "Just think. Where are they?"

"She's at the edge of the forest. In the clearing. The one before the bus stop."

Mr. Weasley nodded. "C'mon, boys. Molly, you take care of Nora. Apparate at the bus stop and we'll go on from there."

The twins, Percy, and Charlie all had their wands at the ready. With several pops, they disappeared from sight. Harry took his wand out of his pocket and tried to run down the driveway, but Mrs. Weasley held him back.

"You can't go, Harry," she said. "It might be a trap. It's too dangerous."

"I don't care!" he cried. He _had_ to go. He had to save her. There had been so many times when he needed Eva, and now she truly needed him.

"Harry, you don't understand." Mrs. Weasley glanced at Nora, then lowered her voice. "With werewolves, there are usually no survivors."

"I _have_ to go," he said again. If he didn't try to save her, he'd never forgive himself. There had to be something he could do. She couldn't die. She just couldn't. He broke free from Mrs. Weasley's grip on his shoulder, and she didn't try to stop him as he ran down the driveway. Ron followed him.

"Ron, no!" Hermione cried. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Somebody's got to look after him."

Harry ran at top speed. He followed the tracks that Nora and Eva had made in the snow. He was barely aware of Ron behind him. In his head, he was chanting – praying – over and over again that she couldn't be dead. She couldn't die. No survivors. But the memory of their kissing was so fresh to him. So warming. She couldn't die.

He wouldn't let her.

Finally, he found where their footprints were met with wolf tracks and they deviated off into the woods. As they got closer, he could hear Mr. Weasley shouting, and hear growling that echoed throughout the woods.

In the clearing, Harry recognized the werewolf from his third year at Hogwarts. It was Remus. He knew it. And at his feet – paws – was Eva's mangled, bleeding body. She was contorted in an impossible position, but when Harry peered at her from the distance he was at, he could see her chest rising up and down.

She was still breathing. She was still alive.

Horrified, Harry watched as Remus bent down and picked Eva up again. She was held tightly in his jaws as he shook her around like a rag doll. He didn't know if she was still breathing after that.

"We've got to stun him," he heard Charlie say. "It's the only way to do it without killing him."

"But if we miss, it may be too powerful," Mr. Weasley answered. "It'll kill her."

Harry's heart plummeted to his stomach. What the hell was Remus still doing in Ottery St. Catchpole anyway? But he didn't have time to think about that. Both Remus and Eva were in trouble. There had to be something he could do. They needed a distraction. Something that would make him drop Eva and get her out of the way so that the Weasleys could stun him.

And suddenly, he realized what he had to do. He jumped out into the snowy clearing. Remus heard him right away, and turned towards him, Eva still locked in his jaws.

"Harry! No!" Mr. Weasley shouted.

Harry took a deep breath. The stag had saved his life on more than one occasion. Now, hopefully, it would save Eva's. He gathered all of his thoughts of her, all of her smiles, and all of her kisses, and somehow felt warm inside.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_" Harry shouted at the top of his lungs. Instantly, a silvery-white stream erupted from his wand, and his father's stag charged into the clearing. Remus appeared to be in awe. His eyes were wide and wild, and his tail was between his legs. He opened his mouth to howl, and Eva fell out, crashing to the ground.

"Now!" Mr. Weasley shouted.

"_STUPEFY!" _Remus was hit by six stunning spells, including one from Ron's wand. He stopped howling and flopped over on his side, nearly landing on Eva.

Harry quickly collected his Patronus and ran forward into the clearing. Remus was out cold. Eva was lying in a heap, her body covered in blood. Harry was nearly sick at the sight of her. He felt hot tears running down his cheeks. She couldn't be dead. She just couldn't be.

"This is a disaster," Mr. Weasley mumbled. "Fred and George, apparate back at the house and tell your mother to get a hold of Dumbledore. Charlie, you stay here with Remus and make sure no one passing by sees him. He's not going anywhere." Mr. Weasley bent over and carefully picked up Eva. "Come on boys, let's get back."

Harry wasn't sure it was even wise to be moving Eva but he didn't know what else to do but follow him. "Mr. Weasley… you don't think… she's not going to die, is she?"

"Perhaps it would be better if she did."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, outraged. "What do you mean?"

"Harry, have you forgotten what happens to someone when they're bitten by a werewolf?" Mr. Weasley hissed.

And then Harry realized the awful fate that awaited her. But it was better than death. If he lost her now, he didn't know what he would do. If he was being selfish, he didn't care. He'd just realized how much he liked Eva. How much he needed her.

There were back at the Burrow even quicker than they left it, but it all felt like it was too long for Harry. He worried they were too late. Every second mattered.

When they got back inside, Mr. Weasley brought her directly into the bedroom on the ground floor. He left the door open, but wouldn't let anyone inside. Nora was asleep on the couch nearby, her head in Ginny's lap. Hermione had whipped up a sleeping draught from memory for her. Mrs. Weasley was standing at the fire speaking sternly. Harry could see Dumbledore's head in the fire.

"I'm sending Poppy," Dumbledore said. "She's just run to the hospital wing for a few supplies. I'm afraid I don't know how much she can do."

"There's not much time," Mr. Weasley said breathlessly. "Soon, she won't be able to do anything."

"Where's Remus?" Dumbledore asked.

"He's still in the clearing," Mr. Weasley answered. "He's out cold. He won't be up 'til morning. We hit him pretty hard. Charlie's with him."

Dumbledore nodded. "I see."

"Oh dear, Arthur, you're hurt. You're bleeding!" Mrs. Weasley cried. There was blood all over Mr. Weasley's clothes, soaked through to his skin. She fussed with his shirt.

Mr. Weasley glanced at Harry and frowned. "It's not my blood."


	35. Silent Night

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE**

**Silent Night**

Madam Pomfrey arrived using Floo Powder a few moments later. Mr. Weasley led her to the bedroom door, and Harry tried to follow them, but Mr. Weasley told him that he needed to stay back, and there was nothing he could do. Frustrated and furious, Harry sat down on the loveseat and watched Mrs. Weasley, who was still chatting softly with Dumbledore. Harry couldn't hear what they were saying, but he couldn't seem to concentrate on the physical world around him anyway. He was lost in his own thoughts.

_Please don't die_, Harry prayed silently. _Please don't die_.

Hermione and Ron sat on either side of him. Ron gave him a pat on the back, and he was grateful for the company and the closeness of his two best friends. Neither of them spoke, but he knew there was nothing they could say that would make the tragedy any easier.

There was a scuffle from the fireplace, and Tonks, in disguise as Professor Leurre, poked her head into the fire. "I'm coming, Molly," she said. She glanced at Dumbledore, who didn't say a word. "I've got to be there. Someone needs to look over Remus."

"As you wish," Dumbledore said. "I must get back to the feast. I'll be in touch, Molly." His head disappeared from the fire, which Mrs. Weasley quickly put out so that Tonks could use Floo Powder. Within seconds, she was standing in the fireplace, in her normal form. She dashed out and brushed the hot ash off her clothes.

"I told them to let me do it! I told them _I _should've been the one watching him tonight! That man cannot be trusted!" she shouted. "Where is he? Is he hurt?"

"I'll take you to him," Percy said. "We only stunned him." Tonks nodded that she understood and rushed out the door after Percy.

Harry wondered who was supposed to be watching over Remus. Tonks appeared to be furious. He thought maybe it was Mundugus Fletcher's job. He had been known to slack off – he was supposed to be watching over Harry when the dementors attacked him and Dudley on Privet Drive. However, Harry really thought that the old crook had learned his lesson. He knew what would happen if Remus was left at the Burrow when the full moon rose. Perhaps Dung was up to his old tricks.

But Harry didn't have the heart to be furious. He was sick with worry. He took off his glasses and set them on his knee. They were still foggy from when he came in from the cold outside. Mrs. Weasley was bustling around in the kitchen. Fred had offered to go bring extra supplies to Charlie and Tonks, who would be spending the night outside with Remus.

Harry held his head in his hands. _Please don't die_. It was a chant inside of his head. He would give anything to let Eva live. Anything at all. He just wanted her to live. He couldn't picture his life without her. He didn't even want to try.

He didn't know how long he had stayed in his praying position, but when he looked up again he saw that everyone in the living room was asleep. The twins were lying on the floor in front of the fireplace, their backs pressed up one another, snoring softly. Hermione and Ron, on either side of him, were leaning against the back of the loveseat, dozing. Ginny still had Nora's head in her lap, and both were fast asleep.

Harry stood up. He was afraid that he, too, would fall asleep. He began to pace around the living room. He glanced at his watch. It was three in the morning. Perhaps he had fallen asleep without realizing it.

The Burrow was eerie. Unnaturally silent. Harry sadly looked at the tree, now dimly lit with only a few glowing candles that were still ablaze. It seemed that the tree was no longer dripping with gold, but weeping sparkling tears. It took Harry's breath away just to look at it.

He was vaguely aware that someone was watching him. He turned to the doorway and saw Mrs. Weasley looking at him, very concerned. "Come in the kitchen, Harry, and have a spot of tea."

Harry shook his head. He couldn't open his mouth to speak. Surely, it would only make him cry out in agony. And he was afraid that Mrs. Weasley would put something in his cup make him fall asleep. He couldn't sleep right now. He just couldn't. He had to stay awake.

_Please don't die_. _Please, Eva. I need you._

Harry must have walked miles from one end of the living room to the other. There was no sound coming from the bedroom, which worried him. However, Mr. Weasley and Madam Pomfrey hadn't come out, and if Eva was dead, they would have stopped trying to heal her long ago.

There was some hope, but as the bedroom door opened and Mr. Weasley stuck his head out, looking pale and quite sweaty, Harry felt his heart crash into his stomach. "Molly, get some warm water and that tub from underneath the kitchen sink. Hurry," he added.

Harry opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but Mr. Weasley disappeared inside the room again before he had time to find his voice. He didn't even look at Harry.

Mrs. Weasley got the supplies that Mr. Weasley asked her for. She didn't say anything as she marched past Harry and went inside the bedroom. Harry waited, hoping for Mrs. Weasley to come back out and give him some news, good or bad. But she never did.

He continued pacing until there was light on the horizon. Harry had never seen a more depressing sunrise in his life. The sky was overcast, and soon there was only gray light peeking into the windows in the Burrow. Harry could feel his exhaustion with every step he took, but he continued on. He had to stay awake. He had to know she was all right. He couldn't rest until he knew.

Suddenly, the front door opened. Percy came in, carrying the supplies that Fred had delivered to them for spending the night in the snowy forest. Everyone but Nora stirred in the living room. They stood up and stretched.

Harry stood in shock as he watched who came through the front door next. Remus staggered in through the door frame with an arm around Charlie and the other around Tonks for support. He was pale and looked terribly sick. Harry could see his eyes were red.

He was in no condition to be walking on his own, but he let go of Charlie and Tonks and made his way to the living room where Harry was standing, frozen. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. Remus, the closest thing he had to a father, may have killed Eva. Part of Harry wanted to punch him in the face, and the other part wanted to weep. He knew that Remus couldn't help what sort of creature he was. It wasn't his fault.

He just wanted Eva to live. He didn't care about anything else.

When Remus was only a few feet away from Harry, he stopped. "Harry… Oh Harry… I'm so sorry…" And he broke down into sobs. Large, wet tears fell from his eyes and Harry felt all at once overwhelmed.

Harry rushed forward and embraced Remus in a tight hug. And this time he could not hold back either. Tears streamed from Harry's eyes, causing his vision to blur even more due to the fact he wasn't wearing his glasses. He choked back his own sobs as Remus apologized over and over again.

"I'm so sorry… so sorry, Harry… I'm sorry…"

Harry took a deep breath and hugged him even tighter. He wanted Remus to stop apologizing, but he just couldn't open his mouth and tell him to. He was so cold from his night in the forest, so cold it sent shivers down Harry's spine. He looked sickly because of the toll of his transformation.

He backed away from the hug and Tonks came over to Remus. He looked like would collapse at any moment. "C'mon, let's get you up to bed." He started to protest, but Tonks pulled his arm over his shoulder and headed up the stairs.

Harry was left in the middle of the living room, feeling empty and alone. George came over and patted him on the back. "Fred and I will go make some breakfast. No balloons this time," he added.

Harry didn't even try to smile as the twins disappeared into the kitchen. Ginny carefully got up from the couch and placed a pillow underneath Nora's head where her lap had been. "Where's mum?" she asked sleepily.

"She went into the bedroom a few hours ago," Ron replied. "Before sunrise," he added. Harry was surprised that Ron had been awake. Perhaps no one got much sleep at all. Ron approached Harry, a little wary, and gave him a pat on the back. "I'm sorry, mate," he whispered.

Harry could only nod. Everyone moved to the kitchen table, but Harry was hesitant to leave the living room. He felt like he'd be leaving Eva. But after some coaxing from Hermione and Ron, he sat in the chair closest to the room so that he could still keep an eye out for anything. It was silly really – if anyone stepped out of the bedroom they would all know about it.

Charlie was sitting at the table with a large mug of tea. He looked a little rough around the edges, but he was strong, and Harry realized he could have spent a week in the cold if he had to. "If only I had insisted on giving them a ride…" he began.

Harry turned to him, meeting his eyes. Charlie stopped talking. "You're not to blame." In fact, Harry was glad that Charlie was home to look after Remus.

Honestly, he just couldn't find it in his heart to be angry with him. Whoever was supposed to meet up with Remus from the Order was who Harry was beginning to feel his fury for. Someone had betrayed them.

Within minutes, eggs and meats were fried and then put onto the tabletop. Harry was vaguely aware of someone putting food on his plate, but he couldn't image eating it. He tried a piece of toast, but it only tasted like cardboard. He had no appetite. He did not wish to eat.

He was gazing at Eva's torn satchel that had her and Nora's gifts in it. There were a few drops of blood on it. Part of him wanted to look away because it was so depressing, but he just couldn't stop staring.

There was a hoot from outside and one of the twins opened a window. In swooped Errol, the Weasley family owl,with a big brown package, followed closely but Pigwidgeon, who was carrying a letter for Ron. To Harry's surprise, there were three more owls after them. Two were barn owls from Hogwarts, and the last one Harry saw had a Hogsmeade Post identifying ribbon around its neck. That particular owl flew over to him and held its leg out, a package dangling from it.

It barely registered with Harry. Who would send him something from Hogsmeade? And then he realized that Eva must have set it up so that he'd receive his gift from her on Christmas Day. He felt a lump in the back of his throat and tried to keep his tears back. He untied the package from the owl's leg and sent it away. There was a letter attached, and without hesitating, Harry opened it and read inside.

_Dear Harry,_

_Merry Christmas!_

_I know what you're thinking: I shouldn't have gotten you anything for Christmas. But I found this, and it made me think of you. I wanted to give it to you in person, but I thought it would be best if it arrived on Christmas morning as a nice surprise._

_Harry, I don't know quite how to say what I want to say. I know that I don't have the courage to tell you how I feel in person, so I'll try to in this letter. I know you're reading this on Christmas morning, and I've always believed that Christmas is a very magical time. Well, I'd like to make it more magical – more special. I don't know how you feel about me, but after a lot of thinking, I know how I feel about you._

_I want to be more than friends._

_I hope this doesn't come as a shock, and if I'm completely out of line, we can just pretend that I never told you how I feel. I'd much rather have you as a friend than not have you in my life at all. I know that I'm just a common, ordinary Muggle, but I hope that you've felt that same spark between us that I have. Please think about it._

_Love,_

_Eva_

_P.S. I think I know the _real_ reason why you used magic at the medieval dinner, and I'm flattered_.

Harry felt as though his heart had just shattered into a million pieces. He thought for sure that his chest would burst. His eyes were filled with tears that he tried to blink away.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. "What are you doing?"

Harry glanced up, distracted, and saw that Ron had opened his card he'd received in the mail.

"What?" he said. He glanced at Harry. "I thought it would be okay…"

"Now is _not_ the time to be opening gifts!"

Harry had enough of their bickering. Didn't they realize how lucky they were? He was going to put an end to their foolishness once and for all. "Would you two just look at what you have, right in front of your faces!" he exploded. "You've got your health. You've got each other. Why can't you just get along?" The last part came out as a plea, and Harry realized that he sounded more desperate than angry.

Ron and Hermione both blushed furiously and didn't say another word.

Harry was just about to go back into the other room when the bedroom door burst open. He turned and saw Madam Pomfrey walk out with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, all looking extremely exhausted. He was on his feet in a flash, waiting for an explanation. There was still no sound coming from the bedroom. That was what worried him the most.

However, when he looked Mr. Weasley in the eye, there was a small sparkle in it. Madam Pomfrey spoke first. "She's going to make it."

Harry couldn't contain himself. It felt as though life had just been breathed back inside his body. He ran over to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who embraced him, and he even hugged Madam Pomfrey. The others cheered and were celebrating as well. However, when he pulled away from the school nurse, there was still distress in her eyes.

"She is… She's a werewolf now. There was nothing I could do. Nothing more that I can do."

Madam Pomfrey looked as though she had failed, but Harry didn't care. She was alive. That was what mattered.

"Can I see her?" Harry half-asked, half-demanded.

The Weasleys looked hesitant, but Madam Pomfrey gave a short nod. "Come into the kitchen, Poppy, and have a spot of tea. Everyone else, back to breakfast," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I think I'd better, er, stand watch, Harry," Mr. Weasley said quietly. "She's… she's had quite a shock. Be prepared. She doesn't look well. But I know she needs a friend right now."

Harry nodded, took a deep breath, and walked past Mr. Weasley and into the bedroom.

He was surprised to see that she was sitting up in the bed. She had her knees pulled up to her chin, the bed sheet covering her from the waist down. As he peered at her through the dim light, he realized that she was shaking.

Harry ran over to the bed. He couldn't help himself. He threw his arms around her. He wanted to squeeze her tightly, to make sure that she was real, but he was gentle with her, his soft hands caressing her shoulders as he embraced her.

"Oh god, Eva. I thought I'd lost you forever."

Harry studied her face and saw that there were the remnants of a nasty gash on her cheek and a black eye. Madam Pomfrey had already started the healing process on the outside, but Harry wondered when it would begin on the inside.

She was still shaking as he held her. She didn't hug him back. She wouldn't look him in the eye. There were more scrapes and bruises along her arms and a deep cut that started at her shoulder blades and disappeared beneath the shirt she was wearing.

Harry just held her in his arms on the bed for what seemed like ages. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Eva spoke.

"I… I don't remember what happened," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse. "I don't remember… after he grabbed me…" She shuddered. "How did I survive?"

Harry couldn't speak. He didn't know what to tell her – how to break it to her. Was she better off not knowing?

"It was actually Harry who saved you," Mr. Weasley said from the doorway.

"He did?" She didn't look at either one of them. Something was very off about her. Very wrong.

"He was able to distract Remus. If he didn't drop you…" his voice trailed off. "Well, you really ought to thank Harry. He was the one who saved you."

"Thank him?" Eva questioned. She turned to Harry, almost as though she'd just realized that he had his arms around her. "Thank him!" She finally did look Harry in the eye, but her gaze was wild and her eyes were wet, filling with tears as she spoke. "Why the hell did you let me _live_!" she exploded. "I hate what I am. What I've become! I don't want to be a werewolf…"

Eva was crying hysterically. Harry's heart broke for her. She squirmed in his arms, but he only held on tighter. He needed to make her understand. He needed to make her see that she meant the world to him. She tried to push him away but Harry wouldn't let her.

"I'm a monster!" she screamed. "A monster!"

"You are not a monster," Harry said.

Suddenly, she quieted in his arms. Her eyes fell and she looked as though she were ashamed. Embarrassed. "Who's going to want me now?" she whispered. It was so soft, Harry barely heard her.

Harry felt a lump of tears in the back of his throat that he tried to hold back, but he knew that he couldn't. "I can think of one person who wants you," he whispered.

Eva scoffed. "Nora would be better off without me."

"Not Nora," Harry said huskily. He reached up to her swollen face and gently wiped away the tears from each cheek. He leaned in and gently kissed her forehead.

Eva pounded her fists against his chest, trying to push him away. "Don't you dare touch me like that, Harry Potter! Don't you dare!" she cried.

But it only made Harry hold on tighter. She couldn't hold back any longer as she erupted into sobs. Harry pulled her trembling body closer to his. She was cold. So cold. But at least she squeezed him back. He felt tears running down his cheeks as her cries echoed loudly in his ear, her chest heaving against his. There was nothing he could do for her.

He held her in his arms for a long time, until she finally seemed to quiet down. Her breath came in shallow gasps when she pulled away from him, wiping her tear-stained cheeks. She looked so helpless, so vulnerable.

"What am I going to do now?"


	36. Cause for Celebration

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX**

**Cause for Celebration**

"I'll tell you what you're going to do!"

Harry had forgotten that everyone was outside – and that they had probably heard Eva's screaming and crying. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing in the doorway. Mrs. Weasley had her arms folded across her chest. She was the one who had interrupted them. "You're going to stop living in that rat hole at the Hog's Head and stay with us. And you're only going to work at the Ministry. I've heard about all of your jobs and how hard you work and how you never have any time for yourself. Frankly, you need somebody to take care of you – at least for a little while…"

"But Mrs. Weasley…"

"No. No objections. And it's Molly, dear," she interrupted. "Welcome to the family."

Harry grinned. Eva managed a weak smile.

Ron pushed his way between his parents and stood in the door frame, holding Eva's package. "Here, Harry. Open your gift." He tossed it to Harry.

"I got your letter," Harry replied, feeling his face flush. His smile grew even wider. "And I think… I think you know how I feel about you," he whispered. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "You are not some common, ordinary Muggle."

It was Eva's turn to blush. Harry quickly ripped the packaging covering Eva's gift. Inside was a small jewelry box. He opened it up and inside was a watch. "Wow. It's amazing," Harry breathed. He quickly took it out of the box and began taking off his old watch.

"Wait," Eva said. "It's for your other wrist, actually. It doesn't tell time. It's a Timepiece Watch."

As he studied the silver wristwatch more closely, he realized that it did have a certain magic sparkle to it. The face had only one hand, and instead of being numbered one through twelve, there were ten gray circles spaced evenly where the numbers would have been. "What does it do?"

"It records memories," Eva replied. "Not just the thought, but the smells, sights, sounds, feelings – everything about the time." She sat up further on the bed, then exhaled sharply from the pain. "When you want to record something, all you have to do is press this button," she pointed to one on the side of the watch, "and say the incantation."

"What's the incantation?"

"It's engraved on the inside."

Harry glanced at the silver band. Inside was written _In memoriā redire sensusūs._

"The clerk said that it means to recollect senses or something."

"Wow, Eva… Thank you so much," Harry said, putting the watch on. "I… I don't know what to say." She was still blushing, and Harry liked to see the color in her face. He leaned over, and this time kissed her on the lips. He could feel her soft, cool skin against his. It was a gentle, sweet kiss.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat from the doorway. "I think Eva still needs her rest. And Harry, you ought to get some yourself."

"Yeah, I don't think he slept at all last night," Ron said. "You can go up to my room, if you want."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not leaving." He stood up from the bed and gestured to an empty chair near the window. "I'll rest here." There was no way he was going to let Eva out of his sight. What if her injuries got worse while she slept?

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Suit yourself."

"What about Nora?" Eva questioned. "Where is she? Can I see her?"

"We gave her a sleeping potion," Mrs. Weasley replied. "It lasts twenty-four hours. I'm afraid she won't be awake until this evening."

"Is she all right?" Eva looked a little worried. "Are there side effects?"

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "She'll be perfectly fine and well-rested. Now, if you'll just get some sleep, when you wake up I'll send her in to see you."

Eva didn't have the strength to protest. She leaned back on the pillows and carefully scooted beneath the blanket until she was lying down. She winced, almost as though the blanket even felt heavy against her skin. She was still shivering. Harry pulled up another blanket from the foot of the bed and carefully pulled it up over her. She smiled, but her eyes were already closed. She was exhausted.

Mrs. Weasley pulled an extra blanket out of a nearby cedar chest and handed it to Harry. "Sleep tight," she whispered. She hesitated for a moment, then ruffled his hair and trailed her hand down his cheek in a very motherly fashion.

Harry grinned. The Weasleys disappeared into the living room and closed the door behind them. He pulled the curtains shut so that the room would be in darkness, except for the dim light of the lantern burning on the nightstand. Harry plopped into the oversized chair and quietly shook the blanket open and pulled it up to his neck. He tried his best to stay awake, but finally, the endless night took its toll on him and he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke from his dreamless rest, he could tell that it was past sunset. The lantern light had disappeared and the room was in complete darkness. Harry yawned, then stood up, stretched, and quietly folded the blanket.

"Harry?" Eva whispered. "Are you awake?" The room was immersed in a soft glow as Eva turned the lantern on.

Harry yawned. "I'm awake. How did you sleep?"

Eva shrugged. However, she did look better. There was still color in her face, and Harry could barely see her black eye. "All right. But I'm starving," she added with a grin.

"I'm glad," Harry replied. His own stomach felt empty. "I'll go find something to eat."

Harry made his way out of the bedroom and back into the living room. When the door opened, he was bombarded by Nora, who was dancing around at his feet. "Is she awake? Can I see her? Please?" she questioned.

He hesitated, but Eva called her in from the bedroom. "Go ahead," Harry replied. However, Nora needed no encouragement and pushed past him through the door.

The living room was empty but he could hear voices from the kitchen. He paused, listening to the conversation.

"We've got to," he heard Tonks say. "Dumbledore said…"

"He didn't say we had to register her," Remus interrupted. "He said we just needed to take care of her."

"But it's the law," she protested. "If Eva's caught, she'll be branded a renegade."

"Why would she be caught?" Remus questioned.

"There's no reason why we can't hold off on it for a bit," Mr. Weasley said. "At least until she's done with her project at the Ministry. If Fudge found out now, he might cancel the whole thing. All of her work would be gone – for nothing."

"Perhaps it's best that way," Mrs. Weasley said. "Honestly, what that girl is up to…"

"We should wait," Remus said. "You don't realize what it's like – how terrible it would be for her. The Werewolf Registry is a terrible place. Once you get your name on that list, your life is never the same again. And we can't tell them the truth about what happened. I'll end up dead. Or worse – in Azkaban."

"But they'll know," Tonks said. "People – especially Fudge – are bound to get suspicious when she starts becoming ill around the full moon. It will only be a matter of time before someone figures it out."

"But until then," Remus interjected, "I believe it's best if we just keep it quiet. After all, she is a Muggle. The Ministry would not punish her for not coming forward immediately. She is not used to our ways."

"Remus is right," Mr. Weasley agreed. "We should wait and…"

"Shh…" Mrs. Weasley hushed. Harry saw her point to the doorway. Caught, he walked into the kitchen.

"How's Eva?" Remus asked at once.

"Better," Harry replied. "Starving."

"Oh dear, I can imagine." Mrs. Weasley quickly got up from her seat and started bustling around the kitchen. "Both of you must be absolutely famished. And Nora too."

"She's in with Eva right now." Harry sat down in the empty seat at the table. "What were you talking about?"

The adults exchanged glances. "Here, let me help you, Molly," Tonks said, joining Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen. Remus and Mr. Weasley were left on either side of Harry, both looking grave.

Mr. Weasley sighed. "Eva's, er, condition is quite a predicament. All werewolves need to be registered with the Ministry. However, due to Eva's status and the nature of her research…" He cleared his throat. "Well, we aren't quite sure what to do with her."

"What is the nature of her research?" Harry questioned.

"To tell you the truth, I only know bits and pieces," Mr. Weasley said. "But even those pieces are things I cannot tell you, Harry. Right now, if her condition was known to the public, the results could be disastrous. She would certainly lose her job."

"But that's prejudice!" Harry cried.

Remus's hands coiled into fists. "That's the way it is when you're a werewolf, Harry. No second chances. No special treatment. There is no forgiveness for a monster." His eyes were grave. "It's only a matter of time before Eva finds out who her true allies are. And I guarantee she will have many more enemies."

Mrs. Weasley brought over a tray filled with leftovers and handed it to Harry. "Here you go, dear." She picked up a flask filled with some peach-colored liquid. "Make sure Eva drinks this entire potion before she eats anything. Strict orders from Madam Pomfrey."

Harry thanked her and carried the tray back over to the bedroom. He hesitated by the doorway. When he peeked inside, Nora was clutching her older sister tightly. Harry could see the pain in Eva's eyes from where Nora was holding her.

"I thought… I thought you were going to leave me," Nora cried softly. Tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "Just like mum… just like that Christmas Eve…"

"Shh…" Eva whispered. "Everything's all right. I'm all right. You don't have to worry."

"It should have been me," Nora continued, babbling. "He was after me. Not you. Why did you go into the woods?"

"Aye, it was better me than you." She stroked Nora's curly hair. "You've got all these people to take care of you. The Weasleys. Harry. Professor Dumbledore. And you've got a bright future as well. You'll be a star wizard one day." She grinned, but there was still pain in her eyes.

Harry cleared his throat and walked inside the bedroom. "Ready for dinner?"

Nora pulled away from Eva and wiped her eyes. Harry set the tray on the bed and handed the flask to Eva. "You're supposed to drink this."

She took the flask, sniffed it, and then took a sip. She coughed and sputtered. She glanced at Harry, then took a deep breath, and downed the flask. Nora grabbed a sandwich from the tray and ate it hungrily. Harry grabbed one for himself. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until the food was actually in front of him.

Eva took a sandwich, ripped it in half, and ate it carefully. Harry tried not to seem overly concerned, especially in front of Nora. The conversation was light and everyone seemed to be dancing around what happened the night before. Harry could see that, after only eating a few bites but drinking a lot of water, Eva was tiring quickly. Her eyelids would drop every once in a while, and he had to wonder what was in that potion Mrs. Weasley had instructed her to drink.

"I think we ought to let Eva get some rest," Harry said quietly to Nora. "And you should probably get settled in for the night as well."

Nora shook her head. "I'm not tired. I've been sleeping all day. And I don't want to leave her."

Harry found that he felt the same way. "I'll stay and take care of her," he announced. She was about to protest again, but he gave her a stern glance. She sighed and stood up. Harry picked up the tray of food. "Will you take this back to the kitchen?"

Nora nodded reluctantly. She gave Eva a gentle hug, then took the tray from him and left the room. Harry shut the door behind her and sighed. How long was Eva going to be like this? She was so weak and frail. How much of her sister's condition would Nora be able to handle? Even in the dim light, Harry could see more cuts and bruises that he hadn't seen earlier. How long would it take for them to heal? How much pain was Eva going to be in?

"Harry…" Eva whispered suddenly. "What's the matter?"

Startled, Harry realized that she was still awake. Her blue eyes were open but cloudy. He wanted to lie to her and say that nothing was the matter, and that she should just go to sleep because everything would be fine. But a part of him couldn't lie about his emotions when he was around her, and because he was afraid to hold anything inside again, he let it out.

"I… I was just thinking…" He swiftly made his way over to the bed and sat down, his back turned away, so she couldn't see his face or the tears welled in his eyes.

"What?" she questioned when he didn't continue.

"I just found you," he whispered. "And I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

He didn't think he was making any sense. He was about to just stand up and settle into his chair for the night when he felt two arms wrap around his shoulders and Eva's warm breath on the back of his neck.

"Stay with me," she said huskily. "Please."

Her voice was enough to send shivers down his spine. "Of course," he said. He tried to stand up from the bed, but her fingers tugged tightly on the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't go," she begged.

"I was just going to blow out the candles."

"Leave them burning," she whispered.

When she finally loosened her grip on his shirt so that Harry turned around, he saw that there was terror in her eyes. He gently took her by the shoulders and laid her back on the pillows. She was growing sleepier by the second. Carefully, he climbed beneath the covers on the bed and lay on his side so that he could keep one arm around her waist. At first, she cringed from the pain of his touch, but when he tried to pull away, she kept his arm there, so that she could get used to the feeling.

And because he couldn't help himself, he leaned over gave her a kiss, and some of the fear seemed to disappear from her eyes as they fluttered shut. Within minutes, Eva's chest was rising and falling in equal breaths. Harry lay next to her, holding her, wide awake, wondering how he could have fallen so fast.

Eva spent the next few days resting. She woke only to eat and drink more of Madam Pomfrey's concoction. As she grew stronger, she would sometimes read her gift, _Hogwarts: A History_, but after a while the book was too heavy on her lap and she would fall asleep beneath it.

But there were times when she was awake and she did nothing at all. She didn't speak to anyone or do anything; she sat up in her bed, staring straight ahead. She was lost in her thoughts. Harry could only imagine what she was thinking. She always looked so sad.

Harry spent many afternoons playing Gobstones with Nora and helping the Weasleys around the house. The twins spent long hours at their shop and Mr. Weasley and Percy returned to the Ministry. Charlie helped Mrs. Weasley. Hermione went back to her Muggle existence with her parents until the end of winter break. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Nora found themselves with long, empty afternoons.

Harry didn't spend another night in Eva's room. He was ushered out every evening by Mrs. Weasley, who had once again tried to give him The Talk. When she was finished with what she had to say, Harry ran up to Ron's room, mortified, and found his best friend howling with laughter.

"Percy's talk was much worse," Ron said, rubbing his aching side. "He didn't know what she was talking about until it was over. He wouldn't come out of his room for two days."

That fact made Harry feel little better, but he couldn't help thinking that Mrs. Weasley didn't trust him. If he had learned anything from Occlumency, it was self-control – especially over passion. Though he had never experienced the passion that the love of a woman created, he knew of the passionate hate that exists inside the heart of every man. And that he knew how to control.

On the day before New Year's Eve, Eva was finally able to move around. Just before lunch, she emerged from the bedroom with her wet hair pulled up on her head and wearing fresh clothes.

"Have a seat, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, pulling out a chair next to Harry at the kitchen table for her. "Lunch will be ready in a moment."

She thanked Mrs. Weasley and grinned meekly at Harry. Her face flushed, but Harry thought it was because everyone was starting at her, not because she was ill.

"You look good," Ron said.

"Thank you," she replied. "I feel good."

Suddenly, the back door opened and Remus and Tonks walked through. They had been attending to some business for the Order outside and out of earshot of everyone else. Harry, personally, wondered if they went outside to have some alone time. They both came back grinning.

However, as soon as Remus saw Eva, his smile vanished. There was one silent moment where their eyes met that seemed to last for hours. Finally, Remus walked swiftly over to Eva's side, his head down, his eyes on the floor. He got down on one knee, like a knight bowing at the throne of a monarch or a begging dog at his mistress's side. He was at the lowest position of a human being. "I am," he whispered, "so terribly sorry."

Eva looked shocked at his position, but she did not smile. And she couldn't say it was all right, because it wasn't. Remus had changed her life forever. He changed who she was – what she was. She leaned over and gestured for him to get up off the floor. There were tears in his eyes when he looked up.

"I'm all right," she whispered back. "I'll be okay." It was reassurance for herself more than anyone else.

"I'll make sure of it," Remus said. "I'm so sorry, Eva."

"Apology accepted," she replied with a short nod.

"Lunch is ready!" Mrs. Weasley called. She brought out a plate of sandwiches and a pot of soup and set them on the table.

Remus looked slightly embarrassed. He slipped off his coat and handed it to Tonks. "I'd better go wash up." He turned and hurried up the stairs.

Mrs. Weasley took a seat at the table and Tonks returned after hanging up Remus's coat. Everyone ate hungrily, now that things were almost back to normal. Harry felt like he could finally stop worrying and get back to his relaxing vacation.

Nora was chatting away about one of the gifts the twins had brought home for her when Eva gasped. "Oh no! I forgot!"

"Forgot what?" Harry questioned.

"Everything that's in London," she explained. "All of Nora's Christmas gifts are there still. I didn't even get to give her a proper Christmas yet. Plus, the Aldersons will be returning home soon, and I've got to make sure that we're moved out. And that poor cat!" Eva cried. "She hasn't been fed in days."

"I've got to bring the car back to the Ministry tomorrow," Charlie said. "I could give you a lift to London."

"An excellent idea," Tonks agreed. "Remus and I can take you to the flat and pick up your things. Harry can come with." She winked across the table at him and sipped her soup.

"That's a good idea," Ginny said. "We can all meet at Diagon Alley for the New Years celebration. Fred and George are in charge of the fireworks display at midnight."

"I don't know." Mrs. Weasley made a clicking noise in the back of her throat. "Eva needs to build up her strength."

"I'm fine," Eva replied. "I'm getting a little… anxious being cooped up here. No offense." She nodded to Mrs. Weasley. "And I've never been to Diagon Alley before."

"I think it's a brilliant idea," Remus said, joining everyone at the table.

"And don't worry about that cat," Tonks interrupted. "She's not starving to death."

"What do you mean?" Nora asked.

"That cat reeks of ancient magic." She shrugged and went back to her meal, but Harry pressed on.

"What do you mean it's got magic?"

Tonks glanced up. "There are cats out there who truly have nine lives." When everyone still looked confused, she continued. "Some cats have their own special magic. They're smarter – more clever. More curious. They even have their own very distinct personalities. You know, I was thinking of doing a lesson on domesticated magical creatures next term…"

Harry glanced across the table and saw Ron smiling smugly. "I knew that Crookshanks was no ordinary feline." He grinned and went back to his lunch.


	37. Two Muggles in London

(A/N: Apologize for all things British – only been to London once. I was doing some research on the Underground to find a name of a station and it seems that the Down Street is thought to be haunted. For more information, check out http:www.starfury. So their travel isn't completely realistic, considering that Down Street hasn't been used since 1932, but it's fanfiction, okay? Spooky.)

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN**

**Two Muggles in London**

After lunch, Nora wanted to show Eva around the Burrow. She'd only seen the ground level. Nora took her older sister by the hand and led her up the stairs. "There's even a ghoul in the attic!" she exclaimed. "I heard it last night for the first time."

Eva laughed and the sound warmed Harry. He followed them on their little tour, and then ran into Ron's room to straighten up his bed a little before Eva saw it. He quickly closed the door as the Eva and Nora headed in the opposite direction of the bedroom.

He was greeted by his messy bed, but there was a slip of parchment that he hadn't noticed before placed on his pillow. Puzzled, he plopped down on the bed and opened it up.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Professor Dumbledore has taken care of the misunderstanding. The charge of violating the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has been dropped from the incident on the night of the twenty-fourth of December at approximately twenty-four minutes after nine in the evening. Your wand will not be destroyed, and your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been suspended. The hearing for January 15th at 10 A.M. has been cancelled. The Ministry apologizes for any inconvenience._

_Sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE_

_Ministry of Magic_

Confused, Harry re-read the letter. What charge? He'd completely forgotten about using his Patronus on Remus during the attack. But it seemed as though everything was cleared up. Ron had used magic outside of Hogwarts as well – surely he got his warning.

Suddenly, the door opened and Ron popped inside. "Best clean up before the girls get see, eh?" He hurried over to his bed and pulled his quilt that was bunched up at the foot of the bed to his pillow. "That ought to do it." He grinned.

Harry stood and thrust the letter out to him. "Do you know what this is about?"

Ron took the parchment from him and read it. He glanced at Harry, looking somewhat guilty. "We thought it was best not to trouble you after… after everything. It doesn't matter anyway," he said cheerfully. "All the charges have been dropped. You won't have another hearing." He handed the letter back to Harry.

"But when did the letters come?"

"Tonks found the first of them in the clearing. They must have appeared shortly after we used the charm. She got a hold of Dumbledore somehow, and he's been in contact with the Ministry. I only had a warning, but you got another letter yesterday morning saying that Dumbledore was arguing on your behalf. They wanted to come here and destroy your wand."

"Ridiculous," Harry muttered as he crumpled the parchment in his hand. Would the Ministry ever cut him some slack?

The next morning Harry, Eva, Remus, and Tonks woke up early to drive to London with Charlie. After a quick breakfast, they were out on the road, and Harry could see that Eva was overjoyed to get out of the Burrow. The sunlight gave her some color, and when she smiled her whole face lit up. She was sitting in the backseat between Harry and Remus, which was quite spacious. However, she was sitting close enough to Harry so that every time the car drove over a pothole, their knees would bump into each other.

"So where are you off to now, Charlie?" Tonks asked. She was sitting in the front seat and passed the Quidditch section of _The Daily Prophet_ back to Remus to read.

"You know that's classified," Charlie said with a wink. "Actually, it's back to Romania with me. Back to the dragons. I'm sure they miss me just as much as I miss them."

"I don't doubt it," Tonks replied. "You always did have a fondness for those creatures I never understood. Even back at Hogwarts, you were never without your dragon books."

"You two went to Hogwarts together?" Harry asked. His question was more like a sudden realization. Now that he thought of it, if he did the math in his head, it made sense. The two of them would have been at Hogwarts at the same time. Even Bill would have been with them at some point.

"Good old Nymphadora was two years ahead of me," Charlie replied, shaking his head. "Never gave me the time of day. Especially with her Metamorphmagus skills."

"It was because you called me Nymphadora," Tonks replied. "And we did have some fun near the end, didn't we?"

"Fun? Is that what you call it?" Charlie laughed. "I'd say it was more like torture."

Tonks chuckled. "Torture for you, I suppose. But we did have some good times."

Charlie sighed. "And bad ones," he said quietly. His eyes darkened. He suddenly looked far away, immersed in a memory of another time and place. Tonks didn't seem to notice.

Neither of them continued with an explanation, and nothing was said about their time together at Hogwarts for the rest of the way to London, which Harry found slightly disappointing. Sometimes he forgot how many before him had stumbled through the corridors at Hogwarts and attended the same dreadful classes. The school seemed to bind them together – a link to every witch and wizard in Britain.

At some point during the ride, Harry let his hand travel over to Eva's lap, where she intertwined his fingers with hers. Even that small contact sent waves of excitement through his entire body and put his senses in to overdrive. But ever since their kiss on Christmas Eve, it seemed as though he couldn't get enough of her. He wanted to do more than hold her hand. He wanted to be closer.

Riding in the Ministry car took them to London in less than half the time of a normal trip. Harry was almost sad to abandon with warmth of the car outside of the Aldersons' flat. After a quick conversation with the doorman, Eva led them up to the penthouse suite.

Nora's kitten was there to greet them. She looked perfectly healthy and purred when Remus retrieved a few scraps from his coat pocket to feed her. Harry and Tonks followed Eva to the master bedroom, where she pulled out Nora's trunk and her suitcase and started packing their few belongings.

"Allow me," Tonks said. She glanced around the room, making sure there was no Muggle peering through the windows, and produced her wand. "_Pack_!" she commanded.

Magically, the clothes and books that were scattered around the room were hurled through the air and were placed into the proper receptacle. Eva was very impressed by the charm, but Tonks scowled as she tried to shut Nora's trunk. She had to sit on it to properly close it. Harry helped carry all of the luggage out into the living room.

"That was spectacular," Eva said. "I should go into the kitchen and clean it up a bit too. Then we can leave."

"Leave it to me," Tonks said. "I'll have it spick-and-span in no time." She slipped into the kitchen, and Harry heard her shout, "_Scourgify_!"

Eva seemed to be in awe as Tonks sped into the kitchen, her wand at the ready. Remus was in the living room and already had Alley, the cat, in her kennel. "Ready to go?" he asked.

"Let me do one more sweep of the place," Eva said, disappearing into the spare bedroom.

"She looks tired," Tonks said, returning from the kitchen and taking a seat on the sofa.

"She'll make it," Remus replied. "She's got a long day ahead of her. I'm sure Diagon Alley will put her back into the holiday spirit. Should be quite a show tonight."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from Fred and George," Tonks agreed.

"Are you really going to let them into the Order?" Harry questioned.

"You know about that?" Remus said, his eyes narrowing at him. "How did you find out?"

"They told me – told all of us," Harry replied. "They said that everyone had voted and they were in. It was better for them to fight the good fight taking commands from the Order than to get mixed up in the war alone."

"And that kind of logic is precisely what could get them killed," Tonks muttered. "They're not in yet, Harry. Not by a long shot."

"That's what everyone keeps saying, but I don't understand…"

"Why don't you go check on Eva?" Remus interrupted. He checked his watch. "Everyone else is probably in Diagon Alley by now. We ought to meet them for lunch."

Harry nodded and walked into the spare bedroom. The room was smaller than the other, but it had a huge picture window over looking the River Thames. Eva was standing in front of it, staring down at the city below. He cleared his throat, announcing his presence. "Ready?" Harry questioned.

"I suppose," she replied, not looking away from the window.

Harry approached her carefully. Tonks was right; she did look exhausted. "What's the matter?"

Eva shrugged. "I thought that for once I could do something right. For once I could give Nora the perfect Christmas, you know?" She sighed. "Last Christmas was the hardest, because it was the first without mum, but I thought I could make this year better. I could get her everything on her list. I rented this posh flat so that we could watch the snow fall on Christmas Day and feel like a real family. Instead, I get bitten by a werewolf and she spends Christmas Day sedated."

"I'm sorry." Harry didn't know what else to say. What could he say? There was no way to make it better for her. He couldn't go back in time. He couldn't change anything. This was only the beginning of Eva's new reality.

"Me too," she whispered. She still didn't look away from the window. Harry could see her reflection in the glass pane, and saw that she was watching him. Studying him. "Do you ever miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"Being a Muggle?"

Harry hadn't really thought of it. His letter from Hogwarts was his ticket out of his horrible life at the Dursleys. If he was still there, he wouldn't have anything worth being referred to as a life. He'd probably still be locked in the cupboard under the stairs. Perhaps if he'd had a normal life of school and acquaintances – but then he wouldn't' be where he was today, surrounded by family and friends.

"No," he replied honestly.

She sighed. She looked far away. "I do. I mean, I've only been a werewolf for a week, but I've been trying to find my place in the wizarding world for months. I almost wish I could go back for a little while. Just to be normal. Go shopping. See a movie."

Because he couldn't help himself, he took a step forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body into his. She was cold. "We could."

"What?"

"We could go see a movie. We could act like Muggles."

Eva turned around, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Really?"

Harry nodded. "I'd have to clear it with Remus and Tonks, but I don't see why not."

"That would be amazing," Eva said. "There's this great theater about two blocks away that shows old movies."

"Excellent. But let's not get ahead of ourselves." He wasn't entirely confident that Remus and Tonks would let them spend the rest of the afternoon in London. He took Eva's hand and pulled her out of the bedroom to where Tonks and Remus were waiting.

Remus stood up from the couch and stretched. "What's going on?" he asked. "You look like you have something on your mind."

"Actually, I do," Harry said. He adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath. "Eva and I were wondering if we could meet up with everyone in Diagon Alley later and go see a movie this afternoon."

"You mean, a movie in a movie theater?" Tonks questioned. Harry nodded. "Absolutely not!" she cried. "We can't let you two wander around London for a day."

"Not a day," Harry replied. "Just a few hours. We'd be back in Diagon Alley before anybody misses us. And I promise we'd be careful. Besides, what's the point of Voldemort attacking us in broad daylight in the middle of a city? He'd have to be nutters."

"Which he is, need I remind you," Tonks snapped in a tone of voice that reminded Harry of her McGonagall doppelganger.

"Please," Eva said quietly. "We really would be careful. And we'd blend in. The city is so busy anyway, being New Years Eve and everything."

"We just want to act normal," Harry continued. "We want to pretend to be Muggles."

"Remus, talk some sense into these kids," she said.

Remus, who had stayed silent throughout the argument, suddenly stood up. "No, they're right Tonks. They deserve to spend some normal time together. A couple of hours in London won't hurt. We can take Eva's things to Diagon Alley." He pulled a billfold out of his back pocket. "How much does a movie cost these days, anyway?" He gave Harry a handful of pounds.

Harry beamed. "I… I don't know." He couldn't believe they were getting away with it. "Thank you."

Remus smiled, but his eyes were sad. Harry got the impression that he felt sorry for them. Nothing about their relationship was normal. "Now I want you back in Diagon Alley for five. Everyone's meeting at the Leaky Cauldron for dinner. And you'll have to take the Underground to the Down Street Station." He pulled out some more money out for Harry. "I hope that's enough."

"It's all right," Eva said, opening her suitcase and taking out her purse. "I've got some Muggle money left over from Christmas to pay for everything."

"But you can't pay," Harry interrupted. When she looked confused, he continued. "It's a date. You've got to let me buy."

Eva blushed, her blue eyes sparkling. "Really?"

Harry nodded. "And the first date at that."

"Then you most definitely have to let me treat," Remus replied with a wink. "Now don't forget, the Leaky Cauldron at five."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Remus."

"You two be careful." Tonks said. She scowled at Remus. "Molly's going to kill you for this."

"Nonsense." Remus pulled on the golden chain that was wrapped around his neck. "If anything happens, I'll find out about it." His eyes narrowed on Harry. "And don't think I won't check in every once in a while. Don't do anything…impulsive."

He said the last part quietly so that only Harry could hear. He liked Remus's version of The Talk much better than Mrs. Weasley's. "Right," he replied. "Down Street Station. Diagon Alley. Five o'clock." Harry grabbed Eva by the hand, afraid that they would change their minds, and quickly pulled her out of the penthouse and to the elevator doors.

"And have fun!" Remus called after them.

Harry grinned. _No problem_.

Simply strolling through the streets of London, hand-in-hand with Eva, was a lot more fun than he anticipated. It was amazing how comfortable he felt with her now. There was still awkwardness between them, but it was the kind of awkwardness that kept him sharp and alert instead of clumsy and self-conscious.

"The theater is up just ahead," Eva said. "We could probably make it for the afternoon matinee."

Harry nodded. "Excellent. Wonder what's playing?" He smiled. Harry could count the number of times he'd been to a movie on one hand. He was actually quite excited about it.

"Er… whatever it is, I hope you'll enjoy it," Eva said. "There's something I should probably mention about the theater. It's not entirely… modern."

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned.

"It plays old B-Movies. Bad science-fiction movies from the 40's and 50's." She smiled sheepishly. "Nora and I used to come here and make fun of them. They're really terrible. But they're good for a laugh."

"Sounds just fine to me," Harry replied. "I think we could both use a good laugh." He was just about to slip his arm around her waist as they walked, but by the time he found the courage, they were already at the theater.

The building itself was wedged between two stores. It looked a little dilapidated, but there was a box office to buy tickets at and a concession stand. However, there was no sign saying what the movie was.

"Good afternoon," said the woman inside the box office. "Two tickets?" Harry nodded and handed her the money. "Enjoy the show."

"What is the show?" Harry questioned.

"Let's go see." Eva took him by the hand and led him over to a wall of posters in the hallway. Someone had strung Christmas lights around the poster of the show that was playing. "Ooh… _Cat People_. This one's not so bad." The poster had a woman dressed in black on front of it, looking very feline. Beneath the title of the movie was a pitch line. Harry read out loud. "'She was marked with the curse of those who slink and court and kill by night.' Sounds like a comedy."

Eva laughed. "You'd be surprised." She wrapped his arm around his and he pulled her closer. He could see her breath when she exhaled. "Coming back here… It feels nice." She smiled up at him. "It feels nice to be with you."

And because he couldn't help himself, he leaned over and kissed her. A real kiss. Something he'd been longing to do ever since Christmas Eve. Her lips felt cool from chilly afternoon – different than the last time. He could have stood there, kissing her for hours, but she pulled away, her face flushed. "We should get inside. It's going to start soon."

Harry nodded, and the two of them walked arm and arm inside the building. "Want something to eat?" he asked as they passed the concession stand.

"Do we have enough money?"

Harry fingered the pounds in his pocket. "Sure. Don't worry about it. Besides, this is a date. We need the works."

After buying popcorn, candy, and soda, Harry reluctantly let go of Eva's arm to carry their refreshments into the movie theater. The screening room smelled different, like wax from burning candles mixed with buttered popcorn, and the scent added to its nostalgia. The walls were covered with a velvety material for sound-proofing.

"Where do you want to sit? Front, back, or middle?" Harry questioned.

"The back," Eva said. She winked at him and walked down the aisle to the last row of seats. Harry tried to convince himself that she probably had other reasons for wanting to sit back there – maybe her eyes hurt when she sat too close, or she was far-sighted – not because she wanted to snog him. Although her wink suggested otherwise.

Eva sat down in the middle of the row and took the popcorn from Harry. To save on the cost, they had decided to split a coke, instead of buying one for each of them. He set it in the holder on the armrest between them and took his coat off, then took the popcorn back from Eva so she could do the same. She had to borrow a coat from Mrs. Weasley because hers had been torn to shreds from the attack. It was too large for her, but it kept her warm. She tried to shrug it off her shoulders, but she winced. She was still quite sore.

"Here, I'll give you a hand," Harry said. He set the tub of popcorn on the floor and pulled the coat off her, one arm at a time.

"You'll probably have to help me put it on again as well." Eva scowled, her jaw set in her frustration. "I feel like an invalid."

Because Harry didn't know what to say, he offered her some popcorn. She took a handful. "Sorry," she said. "I'm just not used to being weak."

"Somehow, that doesn't shock me," he replied, grinning.

She took a piece of her popcorn and playfully threw it at him. "Aye, I'm not one to admit to it, but I've been feeling weaker lately. And not just in the physical sense." She smiled coyly at him, but seemed afraid to meet his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

She took a deep breath. "I mean… well…" She finally did look at him, her eyes bright in the darkened theater. She looked embarrassed. "I mean that I've never had a weak heart for anyone. Not for Nora. Not for any boy." She paused for a moment. "Except for you." She quickly turned away, her cheeks red and blushing.

Harry smiled. He realized that she was not embarrassed about him, but embarrassed about her feelings for him. He was surprised that she was even telling him this. "I understand."

"Do you?" she asked suddenly. When she turned to look at him, she had tears in her eyes. "I… I hope I'm not being too bold. I thought that maybe you'd appreciate my honesty. But after everything that's happened, I've realized…" Her voice trailed off. "Well, _carpe diem_."

"_Carpe diem_?" Harry questioned. "Seize the day?"

She nodded emphatically. "The attack was a wakeup. When I kept coming in and out of consciousness that first night after, all I could think of was all the things I wanted to say to everyone. All of the things I still wanted to do. I wasn't ready for my life to be over yet. It's too short in the first place." She sighed. "You probably think I'm crazy."

Harry laughed. "Not crazy. Smart." He slipped his arm around her shoulders and balanced the popcorn in his lap. "I do appreciate your honesty," he whispered in her ear. "And when you were in trouble, all I could think about was all of the things I wanted to tell you – share with you." She shivered from his hot breath on her neck. "But most of all, I thought of what a fool I was for not doing something about it sooner. When I saw you at St. Mungo's that first day, I knew there was something between us. Then, when I delivered your package in Hogsmeade, I knew that I wanted to be friends. After I came to you that terrible night and broke down, I knew I wanted to be more than friends. It's taken me all this time to tell you…" He hesitated. Could he say those three little words that he already knew, in his heart, were true? Would it scare her away? No, she had just said how much she liked him. How he made her weak.

But just as he opened his mouth to speak, the lights in the theater dimmed and the movie started. The moment was lost.


	38. At the Stroke of Midnight

**CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT**

**At the Stroke of Midnight**

Harry and Eva watched the black and white movie in silence. The theater had only a few other people in it. Clearly, it wasn't the activity of choice on a New Years Eve afternoon. Harry liked the quiet though, and he liked being close to Eva. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he could smell her hair and the herbal shampoo she'd used at the Weasleys. The popcorn between them had been long forgotten. She had barely touched it, and when Harry offered her some candy, she said she wasn't hungry. He tried not to feel overly concerned about it – after all, she'd been bitten by a werewolf a week ago. She couldn't be expected to bounce back too quickly.

At one point, Harry actually got interested in the movie. It was about a woman who immigrated to the United States from Serbia, and every time she felt any passionate emotions, she would turn into a leopard and kill people. She always had to control her emotions, just like Harry had learned to do through his Occlumency lessons. He turned to Eva, about to whisper some clever comment, but it was soon forgotten.

She had fallen asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. Her chest was rising evenly with every breath. Harry smiled in the darkness and kissed her forehead. He pulled his coat from the empty seat next to him, and draped it across her body, tucking it beneath her chin. She stirred, but snuggled closer to him. She deserved a nap. He couldn't see her making it past midnight to the New Year without one.

The movie ended poorly, but Harry didn't watch a lot of it. He had learned a few days ago that he could spend hours watching Eva sleep.

Life was going to be so different for her now. From what he knew about Remus's transformation, Eva would be out of commission for nearly a week every month. He wondered if she really realized the enormity of her situation. She had to be terrified. Harry was even afraid for her.

Perhaps he could do what the Marauders had done with Remus. He could train to be an Animagus. Then maybe he could be there with her, somehow, so she wouldn't have to be alone. But that was a big maybe.

She felt so warm against him and looked so peaceful. Harry wished he could stay in the dark movie theater with his arms around her forever. If only this one moment of normalcy could last. Suddenly, he remembered his Timepiece watch.

Careful not to rouse her, Harry reached around to his wrist that was behind Eva's shoulders, and pressed the button. "_In memoriā redire sensusūs_," he whispered.

Unfortunately, he didn't know what the watch did to capture the moment. There was a soft popping sound, like a pocket of air had been stepped on, and a sudden flash of light, as though someone had taken a picture with an old camera. He was afraid that the other people in the theater would turn around and look at him, or say something, but they didn't seem to notice.

When the lights in the theater turned back on, Eva woke up and quickly pulled away from him. He laughed. She looked bewildered. There was still sleep in her eyes as she squinted in the dim light. "Oops," she said hoarsely. She slipped his coat off and handed it to him. "I guess I passed out."

Harry grinned. "It's all right. It wasn't too boring."

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to leave you alone in a bad movie."

"I wasn't alone." He stood up and stretched, throwing his coat on. He checked his watch. "I guess we'd better get going. Everyone will have a fit if we're late, and we've still got to take the Underground."

She nodded. He took Mrs. Weasley's heavy coat and held it open for Eva to slip her arms into. He reached around in front of her, closing each of the buttons slowly – deliberately. He could feel her breath quicken as his fingertips grazed her breasts. His hands trailed, somewhat clumsily, down to her waist, then below her hips, to where he buttoned the last button. By that time, he was glad there was no one left in the theater to see him blushing.

The two of them walked out silently of the theater, holding hands. They were greeted by the sunlight streaming through the streets of London. They both shaded their eyes until they adjusted to the bright afternoon. It was a clear day, yet crisp and cold. The kind of cold that cut right through to a person's bones.

"I have a confession to make," Harry said quietly.

"What's that?" Eva questioned, pulling her mittens on over her frigid fingers.

"I've never taken the Underground before."

"It's interesting," she replied. "Quite fun, actually." She gestured to a ramp leading to the subway below the streets. "Come on." She grinned up at him, her face still red. Whether it was from the cold or Harry's touch in the theater, he couldn't be sure.

Still linked, they quickly made their way to the Underground. Eva showed him where to buy a pass, and the two of them were on a car heading for Down Street Station in no time. It was nearly packed to capacity, with lone travelers on their way back to their careers after far too short of a holiday. Some were families, on their way to other parts of London. There were other couples, like Harry and Eva, who held each other close.

A seat opened up, and Harry motioned for her to sit down. She shook her head, and pushed him down in the hard plastic seat, then sat in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and clasped them tightly together. His fingers were cold – he'd forgotten his gloves at the Weasleys.

Riding the Underground proved to be the time Harry most felt like a normal Muggle. He blended in. He was anonymous. He was just a normal teenager riding the subway on a normal afternoon, with a normal girl in his lap. But he wasn't a normal teenager. He was a wizard, and not even a normal wizard at that.

But it was fun to pretend.

Down Street Station came along all too soon. Harry and Eva got off the car, then quickly made their way to the street above. Harry checked his watch. "We're right on schedule." He led her to the next block, then peered around the corner. "It's this way," Harry whispered. He could remember where Diagon Alley was from when Hagrid took him there before he started at Hogwarts. It was his first introduction to the wizarding world and all of the interesting characters in it.

He led her to a small, rundown inn on Charing Cross road. The Leaky Cauldron was between a bookstore and a record dealer, a link to the wizarding world from its Muggle counterpart. Harry pulled Eva inside the smoke-filled pub and squinted at the tables, searching for the Weasleys. After all, they shouldn't have been hard to find. Their heads of red hair were like beacons on a stormy night.

"Glad you made it on time." Harry turned around and saw Remus, Molly, Arthur, Nora, and Ginny sitting at a table behind them, near the back of the pub and closer to the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief that they weren't the last ones there and took a seat at the table, after pulling a chair out for Eva to sit in, next to her sister. "Where's Tonks?" he asked.

"She had to go the New Years dinner at Hogwarts," Remus said quietly. "As Professor Leurre, of course. She's got to keep up appearances. She dropped your things off at the Burrow," he told Eva.

"Thank you, Remus," she added. "For everything."

He grinned. "No problem."

"You were lucky mum wasn't there," Ginny said. "I can't imagine her giving permission for you two to go out on your own. When Remus told her what he did, she nearly hopped on the next taxi to go find you."

Harry frowned. Was it really that serious? Were the anonymous streets of Muggle London so dangerous? Or was Molly simply overreacting?

After everyone had their fill of the finest cuisine Diagon Alley had to offer, everyone decided to split up, then meet outside of Flourish and Blotts to watch the twins' fireworks display. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Eva, and Nora decided to go to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor for desert.

They got up from their seats and Harry led the way out of the back door of the Leaky Cauldron to a brick wall. He tapped it, three up, two across, just as Hagrid had done years ago. The wall separated into an archway, revealing the entrance into Diagon Alley.

"Wow." Eva gasped in wonder at the long cobbles street that lay before them. There weren't tables with colorful umbrellas outside, as there had been during Harry's visit during the summer. And instead of the sidewalks merely being panked down with shopper's footsteps, like when he saw the twins' joke shop, the streets were neatly plowed and decorated for the New Year. There were snow statues and ice sculptures outside of every store, welcoming patrons with tidings of cheer and warm wishes for the New Year. "This is amazing. It's much bigger than Hogsmeade," Eva said.

Harry grinned. "Well, you've shown me London. It's only fair that I show you the wizarding side of it."

On the way to the parlor, they ran into some more people from Hogwarts. Part of Harry was relieved that Nora was with them so that Eva could be introduced as her sister and not as his girlfriend. Girlfriend–was it official yet? The title made his heart beat faster. He hadn't thought about what other people might think if they saw him with Eva. He was more anxious for her sake than his own. Ginny's words kept haunting him. _Anyone who dates you is going to be famous too_. Eva was still recovering from the attack; she didn't need the added stress of being in the public eye.

By the time they made it to the ice cream parlor, Neville, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff had joined them. They chose a table in the back, where they were far away from the ears of any eavesdroppers. The parlor was bustling with excitement, so their small group would be overlooked. Many people had stopped in for a spot of hot cocoa or some Super Steaming Ice Cream, a substance that had the same consistency as ice cream, but was warm instead of cold.

"Listen, Harry," Ernie said quietly, "a few of us have been worried about D.A. You're not quitting, are you?"

Harry cleared his throat and glanced at Nora, who had overheard them. "It's okay," she said. "I know what it is."

"What what is?" Eva asked, trying to hide a yawn by covering her mouth with her hand. Her other hand was intertwined with Harry's, hidden discreetly in his lap.

"D.A. Dumbledore's army," she replied.

Shocked, Harry stared at the first-year in amazement. "How do you know?"

"Dennis told me," Nora said sheepishly. "And Seamus asked me if I'd be interested in joining."

"What!"

"That's the thing, Harry," Ernie continued. "We've been recruiting a little." He glanced at Hannah. "We've got quite a few more people interested. Mostly first-years, a few older ones. And some others…"

Harry could tell from his uneasiness that he was hiding something. "Others?" Now, everyone at the table, including Ron and Ginny, exchanged fleeting looks. They all knew something he didn't. Clearly, he'd been kept in the dark about something. "What is it?"

Everyone looked at Ron, who didn't open his mouth until Ginny elbowed him in the side. "Well, we've got one… well, someone from Slytherin."

"What!" Harry cried. "How did they even find out?"

All eyes suddenly focused on Neville, who turned red in the face. "When I was speaking to a select group of first-years about it, I didn't realize that one of those first-years was wearing green."

Harry tried to stifle the anger that rose into his chest. Neville could have ruined it for them all! If the Slytherins, especially Malfoy, found out about their group, they could be in some serious jeopardy.

"It's Benjamin Ross," Nora said quietly. "He's okay, really. I don't know why he's in Slytherin."

"I'm sure there's a reason," Harry muttered. "But it doesn't matter. We can't have first-years. They're too young. They don't know much about magic yet, especially the Dark Arts. It's too dangerous."

"But Harry, how do you expect us to be ready when the battle comes if we've only had a few years of lessons under our belt?" Nora questioned. "We need somebody to teach us."

He shook his head. He couldn't be responsible for a pack eleven-year-olds as well as his closest friends in D.A. He wasn't a teacher. He was only blindly trying to educate his friends for something that could save their lives in the future. "I'm sorry, Nora. It's just not going to happen. You can't be in D.A."

Nora pouted. Eva had been listening to the whole conversation about the war as if she knew what had been going on all along. Suddenly, she asked, "Just what exactly is Dumbledore's Army?"

Harry turned to face her. "Do you know about the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes we have to take?" She nodded. He guessed that Nora had probably written pages to her about it. "Well, it's almost like an extension of the class. We get together and practice it."

"We do more than that," Ron interrupted. "Harry does more than that. He teaches us new spells and how to use them. He teaches us what to do in the face of danger. He's teaching us how to defend ourselves in the future."

"And sometimes I get them all into trouble, too," Harry said bitterly, thinking back to the battle in the Department of Mysteries. "It's not all magic and spells and fun and games."

"Where can I sign up?" Eva asked. She gave him a small reassuring smile.

Harry, however, frowned. "You can't. You're just a Muggle."

His words hurt her more than he realized. She held Harry's gaze for a moment, and he thought he could see anger in her eyes. But she turned away before he could be sure. "I see," she said shortly. And was it just his imagination, or did her hand loosen a little from his grip?

"But we are still meeting, aren't we, Harry?" Ernie asked. "D.A. is still active?"

He looked away from Eva, troubled. "Yes, of course. I've just been distracted. But now, in the new term, we'll be meeting more often. I promise." He hoped that Eva didn't think he was saying that she was a distraction. She was, but she wasn't the reason there hadn't been any D.A. meetings. "It was just difficult, with Remedial Potions and Quidditch and a few detentions." He cleared his throat.

A clock chimed somewhere inside the parlor. Ron consulted his watch. "I've got to go. I promised Fred and George I'd help them set up the fireworks. I'll be lucky if I don't get a limb blown off," he muttered, standing up.

Hannah, Neville, and Ernie got up as well, saying they had to get back to their families. Nora wanted to go look at Fred and George's joke shop, and Ginny offered to take her off Eva's hands until midnight. Eva was grateful. She would have been content to sit around until the fireworks began.

"You look exhausted," Harry said simply, once everyone had left the table.

She yawned, this time not hiding it. "I am. Even after my nap." She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Harry could still see that she was put off by his declaration of her Muggle status.

"Are you angry with me?" Harry questioned.

From the way she hesitated, he could see she was. "Do you really think that we Muggles are no good to you in fighting Voldemort?"

Harry had never heard her speak the Dark Lord's name before. It felt sinful coming from her mouth. He thought for a moment. "I think you need to fight fire with fire. Magic with magic. A Muggle just isn't going to cut it." It was what he truly believed. Muggles would only get in the way. They were weak and helpless in a magical fight. "Is this because I said you couldn't be in D.A.?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "Look, Eva, it's a bunch of us in a classroom doing spellwork late at night. Even if you did manage to get to Hogwarts for the meetings you couldn't do anything. You couldn't practice."

"But that's not the point," she replied. "I could just be there."

"It would be a waste of time," Harry continued. "I'm sorry, but really, you'd just get bored." And he certainly didn't want to put her into any kind of danger, especially the kind of danger that seemed to follow the members of Dumbledore's Army.

"I suppose you're right." But he could tell she didn't believe him. She scooted her chair closer to him, and leaned against his side. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I wish that when Remus bit me, I turned into a witch instead of a werewolf," she said sadly.

Because she felt cold and sounded so sad, he rubbed her opposite arm and kissed her forehead. "It's going to be okay. You'll see." He believed it. He had faith that things would work out. He didn't know why, when so many other things in his life had turned out so terribly. Maybe it was the faith he had in Eva herself.

"Ouch!" Eva cried. She quickly pulled away from Harry and grabbed her bare arm, rubbing it.

Harry quickly let go of her. "What happened?"

"I don't know." She stopped rubbing her arm and showed Harry. There was a deep red mark on forearm. He could see the imprint of his watch in her skin, as though it had been burned and branded. "It's from the timepiece."

Harry glanced at it. The impression on her arm matched the face of the timepiece. Why would it burn her?

"It's silver," Eva said quietly. "I forgot. Remus said it would start affecting me in a few days. 'Silver is poison,' he said. Now I won't be able to wear half my jewelry." She gave a small laugh, but Harry could see she was just trying to make light of the situation.

"I'll take it off," he said. He quickly unclasped it and slipped it into his pocket, then slipped his arm around her again.

They spent another half hour or so inside the ice cream parlor, with Florean giving them free refills on hot chocolate. Afterwards, he took her around shopping. Most of the stores were open after hours for the New Years celebration. After a tour of all the stores, they ended in Flourish and Blotts, looking at books to pass time while waiting to meet the others outside. He didn't realize what a book worm Eva really was. She studied the Muggle section closely, and even asked the clerk on duty about how they were selling. Harry tried to keep her away from the werewolf section, but with her exploration of the store from top to bottom, it was hopeless. She was browsing some of the titles, looking slightly fearful. Harry was just about to say that no one really bought into that kind of propaganda, when Cornelius Fudge came out between the stacks.

Harry couldn't help feeling that he looked a little guilty. Almost like he'd been caught doing something wrong. "Hullo, Mr. Fudge," Eva greeted brightly. She was strained, hoping that he wouldn't notice that she was in the werewolf section.

However, he barely took any notice of her. He was clearly preoccupied. "Hello, Miss Finnigan. Here for the ah… fireworks?" He glanced at one side of the room, then the other.

She nodded. "Yes, sir. With the Weasleys."

"Oh, is Arthur in here?" Fudge looked like he hoped he wasn't. Harry got the impression that even if Arthur had been stand two feet in front of him, Fudge was so distracted he wouldn't see him.

"No, I don't think so."

"She's here with me," Harry said, taking a step toward her protectively. There was something very off about Fudge. He didn't like it. He still didn't trust that man. He clutched onto Eva's hand.

"Oh, I see." Fudge cleared his throat. "Well, I'm afraid I really must be going. Nice to see you both. Happy New Year." He took one more look around the store and then quickly hobbled out of sight.

"That was strange," Harry said.

"That man _is_ strange," Eva replied. "What do you think he was up to?"

Harry shrugged. Fudge was definitely hiding something. He looked incredibly nervous to be book shopping. But at least he hadn't noticed what section they were in. "I'm not sure, but I don't trust him much."

"Aye, nor do I." She paused. "We should probably go meet everyone outside. It's nearly midnight. Almost a new year."

Harry checked his watch. "You're right." He let go of her hand so that she could put her gloves on before heading outside. "You know, I'm really glad that we could be together today."

She grinned. "Me too. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with at the stroke of midnight."

He'd nearly forgotten what was supposed to happen then. Knowing what was to come, he playfully pulled her by the arm through Flourish and Blotts and to the street outside.

The street itself was crowded with all sorts of witches and wizards, as well as a few other creatures. Fred and George were standing on a platform, dressed in their best, and waving their wands. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were at the front of the crowd, along with Ginny and Nora. Ron was to the side of the stage, talking to Neville, whose grandmother was trying to get him away from the fireworks. Harry could pick out her voice in the crowd, telling Neville he was too close.

Harry couldn't help but laugh. So this was what a real family holiday felt like. He was almost sad to be returning to Hogwarts and a monotonous daily routine. But he knew that most of all, he was going to miss Eva. Now that she was living with the Weasleys, there would be no visits to her bedroom at night or secret rendezvous in the Hog's Head.

When the countdown began, he held her close to him, knowing he should take full advantage of every moment he had with her. _Carpe diem_.

And at the stroke of midnight, he leaned over, and kissed her, slipping his hands beneath her soft hair and onto the back of her warm neck. She shivered from the cold touch of his fingers, and moaned as it forced her closer to Harry and his lips. He heard the fireworks going off, but whether they were from kissing Eva or the twins' display, he couldn't be sure.

However, the whisper inside his being that had been haunting him ever since the first eerie dream was suddenly hushed. _Dance?_ Harry thought.

_I've finally learned how._


	39. Eavesdropping

**CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE**

**Eavesdropping**

The days passed far too quickly for Harry. Eva had to return to work at the Ministry with Arthur after New Year's Day to keep up appearances. Harry had finished all of his holiday homework and even managed to help Ron out with a last minute Potions assignment. Nora helped too. She was very bright and eager to learn what little she could from the sixth-year Potions curriculum.

The afternoons were always the longest part of the day for Harry. He would help Molly with odd jobs around the house until there was nothing left for him to do. He usually played a match of Gobstones with Ginny over afternoon tea. Then he would count the minutes until it was time for Eva and Arthur to return home.

On the last afternoon before Harry returned to Hogwarts his habitual moping was interrupted. There was a knock on the door. He was reading one of the books he'd bought Remus for Christmas in the sitting room when Mrs. Weasley rose to answer it. He liked to be in the sitting room because he could keep an eye on the clock. Mr. Weasley and Eva traveled together, so he would know when they were on their way home or in mortal peril.

"Oh… Mr. Lovegood… What a surprise!" Harry heard her greet them, quite awkwardly.

Harry quickly shut the book and got to his feet. He completely forgot about Luna's request for an interview. But not now; he wasn't ready for it. Was Mr. Lovegood going to interview him? What questions was he going to ask? How was Harry supposed to know how to answer – how much could he say?

But his anxiety was eased when he saw Luna and her father walk through the door. He had the same pale, dirty-blonde hair that Luna did, which he kept tucked beneath a brown bowler cap. He was tall and lanky. He reminded Harry of a stiff cornstalk, fragile in a windstorm. Ron came downstairs from his room to see who was visiting them. Luna smiled brightly at him, and then turned to Harry.

"Sorry for stopping by on short notice," she said. "Well, no notice, really. But we – my father was wondering if we could discuss the interview."

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry Luna. The holidays have been really… crazy. I haven't had time to think about it or…"

"It's all right," Mr. Lovegood interrupted. He grinned at Harry and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, Harry."

Harry shook his hand. Despite his appearance, he had a very firm, strong handshake. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Lovegood."

"No worries, Harry. I just wanted to have a preliminary meeting to decide when, where, and how the interview will take place. I know that you will be returning to Hogwarts tomorrow, so it will have to take place on the grounds. However, it must take place in the utmost secrecy."

Harry nodded. "Of course, sir."

"No one out-scoops _The Quibbler_," he declared with a gleam of pride in his eyes. Harry recognized that same look in Luna at times. "Dumbledore has consented to the interview. He recommended that Ms. Skeeter conduct the interview. Do you agree?"

Again, Harry nodded. However, he wished Hermione was there. She would know how to set things up, especially on Rita Skeeter's end. "It's fine with me, sir."

"Excellent," Mr. Lovegood replied. He hesitated for a moment, and scratched his head, distracted. "Harry, if you don't mind me asking… There is a scoop here, is there not?"

He glanced uneasily at Ron, who made his way down the stairs and into the living room. Ron cleared his throat. "Even if Harry doesn't think there's a scoop, Rita Skeeter will find one."

Harry grinned and silently thanked Ron for saving him. But he couldn't help feeling guilty that even as they spoke, he was keeping a secret from him. And not only him, but Hermione, Eva, and Ginny as well. Perhaps even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. It just didn't seem right.

He would often lie awake at night, wondering what would happen when everyone found out he was studying Legilimency. Would they think he was reading their minds? Would they think he had betrayed the sacredness of their innermost privacy? He knew that Legilimency was not the same as mind-reading, but the two were often confused.

But even he was unsure of the boundaries he would be crossing in his studies. How far was too far? How much could he see, if he pressed hard enough? All of these questions felt like heavy burdens to carry on his shoulders. Dumbledore had a lot of answering to do.

Molly invited Mr. Lovegood into the kitchen for some tea, and Luna remained in the living room with Harry and Ron. An awkward silence hung in the air.

"So… did you have a good Christmas?" Ron asked Luna.

"Oh yes," she replied eagerly. "My father and I went over to Dorset to study some Porlocks. It was excellent. We'd spend all day riding horses and hiding in stables."

Harry couldn't help but notice that Luna acted differently when she was around Ron. She was more outgoing, more confident. It almost appeared as though she was trying to impress him. Ron, however, seemed indifferent to the change. He continued chatting with Luna about something in _The Quibbler_. Apparently, Harry wasn't the only one who got a free subscription.

When Mr. Lovegood was finished with his tea, he and Luna said a quick goodbye and left the Burrow. Luna reminded Harry and Ron that she'd see them on the train tomorrow. Harry had almost forgotten that his winter break was at an end. It made him sick inside to think that he would be leaving Eva tomorrow.

Harry found that he was glad that Eva wasn't around when the Lovegoods were at the Burrow. It was better to keep Eva separated from the wizarding world as best he could. He could keep her safe and out of danger. He didn't like that she was involved in anything at the Ministry, let alone anything to do with Voldemort. It bothered him that she even knew his name. And what kind of meetings did she have with Charlie, anyway?

"I've never heard Luna so chatty before," Mrs. Weasley commented, glancing at Ron. "She's not as… unique as she was when she was a child, asking to come over and play with Ginny."

"She still has her quirks," Ron replied. "But she grows on you."

Harry curiously looked at Ron. "What do you mean _she grows on you_? It was only a few months ago that you were calling her Loony."

He shrugged. "There were a few times she needed help with her Divination homework. I helped her out."

"But you hate divination," Harry interrupted.

"Not the part where you get to make things up," he said. "And besides, what else was I supposed to do while you were off in your Remedial Potions lessons and your dozens of detentions?"

Things like snogging Hermione came to mind, but Harry held his tongue. He would be serving many, many more detentions throughout the next term. Perhaps Ron and Hermione weren't as close as he thought.

Harry's last dinner at the Burrow was bittersweet. He felt ready to go back to Hogwarts, but knew he was going to miss Eva terribly. He would miss eating breakfast with her every morning. He'd miss spending his evenings trying to sneak away into the attic to steal a kiss before the ghoul made too much racket. But most of all, he'd miss saying good night to her.

He wouldn't miss Molly fussing over his every move. He wouldn't miss Arthur's daunting questions about the Muggle world that he still asked both Harry and Eva endlessly. He felt he was ready to leave the Burrow. He felt he was ready for whatever Legilimency and Dumbledore had in store for him.

He hoped his feelings were right.

During the night before they returned to Hogwarts, Harry tossed and turned so much on the bottom bunk bed in Ron's room he was afraid he'd wake his best friend up from his deep, snoring slumber. He was anxious. He wanted to be at Hogwarts already so that he would be able to find out more about Legilimency. If he was already at Hogwarts, that meant he had already said goodbye to Eva, and he'd already gone through the pain of leaving her.

However, time passed slowly. Ron's bedroom turned from pitch black to gray with the beginning of sunrise. Feeling like he didn't sleep a wink, Harry got out of bed and slipped his robe on.

It would be hours before they had to go to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. He considered sneaking to the room that Nora and Eva were sharing, but thought better of it. If he were caught, he had a feeling that he'd be breaking a whole different kind of trust with Mr. Weasley, and he still felt a little awkward around him from the Muggle Studies field trip.

Instead, Harry trudged down the stairs to the bottom floor. He could hear soft voices in the kitchen. He wasn't surprised to find Remus sitting at the kitchen table with one of the books Harry had bought him for Christmas lying open on the table.

He heard another voice. It was Tonks. She had transformed back into Professor Luerre. She, too, would be going back to Hogwarts. She picked up the kettle from the stove and brought it over to the table. "I still don't trust him."

"Dumbledore says…"

"I don't care what Dumbledore says. That man is not loyal to anyone. I'm keeping my eye on him."

"You're wasting your time," Remus replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "It was a mistake. It was just by bad luck and terrible circumstance that it happened."

"I can't believe that _you_, of all people, are blaming the attack on bad luck!" Tonks exploded.

Remus hushed her. "I don't blame him. Someone else should have been watching me. It was an oversight. I should have just apparated somewhere–anywhere. I didn't think that they would be walking. I forgot about the bus stop. To think, if it had been some poor Muggle…"

"She _is_ a poor Muggle!" Tonks cried. "In every sense of the word! And now she's a werewolf, and it's all Snape's fault. I don't care what way you try to spin it, Remus. I'm not buying it. It is not an oversight; it's a traitor's plan!"

Harry's fists coiled at his sides. _Snape_. So everything was his fault. Rage welled up inside of him, and he felt his entire being shake with it. He was supposed to watch Remus on Christmas Eve. He was supposed to take care of him during his transformation. If he had done what he was supposed to, Eva would still be a Muggle.

Tonks continued. "If Snape had been where he was supposed to be on Christmas Eve, none of this would have happened. He could have sent a message to Dumbledore. To Arthur. To me. Anyone. But he didn't. He just irresponsibly let you go through your transformation, without any potion, and hope for the best."

"That's enough!" Remus whispered hoarsely, jumping to his feet. "If you're going to hold a grudge against Snape, then all of our other plans are not going to work. The only way we can possibly pull this operation off is if you trust him."

"I have never trusted that bastard," Tonks snapped. "And I'll be damned if I ever do."

"Listen here!" Remus shouted. He grabbed Tonks by the shoulders. "There's a reason. There's got to be a reason." He sounded desperate. "And I know it's something big. I know that you never trusted Snape, nor did James or Sirius or Molly. But I trust Dumbledore, and Dumbledore trusts Snape, and that's good enough for me." He let go of her shoulders and sighed, looking weak and defeated. "You've got to have faith, Tonks, or this whole war will be over before it even starts." He fell back down into his chair.

"It's always been your fatal flaw, hasn't it?" Tonks said gently.

"Not fatal," he replied. "It's instinct. I can feel it."

Tonks sat down next to him and intertwined her fingers with his. "You may put all of your faith in Dumbledore, but I put all of my faith in you," she whispered. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I hope you're right. I hope that Snape gathered some excellent information, or all of Eva's troubles are for nothing."

Fuming, Harry retreated into the living room. To him, it didn't matter what kind of information Snape got on Christmas Eve. Nothing was worth the price of Eva's attack. She was the victim–a werewolf–for what? The location of the escaped Death Eaters? A copy of the agenda of a Death Eater meeting? The inside track on the negotiations with Dementors? She would be a werewolf for the rest of her life for Snape's spying escapades.

He was so furious he could barely find it in him to pretend that he hadn't overheard Tonks and Remus arguing. He couldn't eat a thing for breakfast, but luckily, Molly chalked it up to the fact that they were going back to school. She had correctly called it a "bad case of the nerves." That was exactly what Harry felt like inside: a bundle of nerves.

A bundle of nerves waiting to beat the hell out of Severus Snape.

Fortunately, Eva had to leave for work before everyone else left for Hogwarts. Harry wanted to say goodbye quickly. It was going to be painful, but he wanted it to be fast so he wouldn't have time to dwell on it. It would be better to feel angry at Snape than emptiness for Eva.

She said goodbye to Nora first, and promised that she would go with Molly and Arthur to watch the last Quidditch match of the season. They hugged and cried a little, but dozens of promises to write reassured Nora that she wouldn't feel any homesickness.

Harry was helping to load the trunks into the Ministry car when Eva stepped outside to say goodbye. He quickly pulled her around the corner to the side of the Burrow so the no one could see them, and immediately smothered her with kisses.

"I… I can't believe it's over," she said breathlessly. "I thought we had so much time together."

Harry nodded solemnly. "Am I really not going to see you until our last Quidditch match?"

Eva shrugged. "I'm not sure. I don't know if I'll be going back to Hogsmeade or if I'm a permanent resident here now." She studied him closely. He felt chills down his spine when their eyes met. "Are you… mad?" she questioned.

He shook his head. "Not mad. Sad," he lied. This was no time for him to be angry, but somehow she knew something else was going on.

"I'll write to you," she said. "All the time. I promise." She seemed to be conflicted about something. In her eyes, he could see that there was something she wanted to tell him, but couldn't. Perhaps she couldn't find the words.

But Harry didn't press her. He had his own secrets to hold back. "I'll write to you too. All the time." He managed a smile. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"I already miss you," Eva whispered. Suddenly, she took a step towards him and pushed him back against the wooden wall of the Burrow. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his, leaving him breathless as her hands traveled from his shoulders, down the front of his chest, and beyond.

Harry gasped, and when she moved away from him he pulled her back again, this time returning the favor, his hands wandering as he pressed his body close to hers. He felt her shiver, and it only encouraged his romantic assault on her.

And for a moment, all of his rage for Snape was forgotten and he was caught up in the feeling of her body pressed against him, and the smell of her hair, and the taste of her lips. When they finally did separate, he felt lost in her eyes. He could have been dreaming. Just as he was able to recognize how he felt, and put those feelings into words, the moment had passed, and she had taken him by the hand and led him back inside the Burrow.

_Next time_, he promised,_ next time I'll tell her_.

He could barely speak as he watched her disappear into the fireplace once they were inside. He mumbled a goodbye, already aching for her, and felt a pat on his back. He turned around.

Remus grinned at him. "Don't worry Harry. The Order will look after her."

That put his floating feet back on the floor where they belonged. "Just like Snape looked after you?" Harry snapped.

"How do you know…?" Remus began, clearly shocked.

Harry shrugged indifferently. It'd didn't matter. All that mattered now was that Snape got what he deserved. Harry would see to it that he would, as soon as he stepped off the Hogwarts Express. There was no stopping him.

Snape was going to pay.


	40. A Deal

**CHAPTER 40**

**A Deal**

The Hogwarts Express couldn't go fast enough for Harry. It seemed to inch along the track at the pace of a sloth. The only thing that kept him from losing his sanity was mental images of Snape, begging for mercy as Harry cursed him into oblivion. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he was being irrational, but he didn't care. It was Snape's fault his girlfriend—the girl he _loved_—was a werewolf.

Harry felt that the only just punishment would be for Snape to be bitten by a werewolf himself, but he would settle for a nasty itching charm and a hiccupping spell. He was sure that he had enough hatred and fury bottled up inside of him to make the cruciatuscurse work, but knew better than to try it. However, it did make him feel better to have the mental image of Snape hanging from strings like a marionette, submissive to Harry's every command.

When the Hogwarts Express finally did reach Hogsmeade Station, Harry quickly got off the train and found a thestral-drawn carriage. Ron hurried after him and managed to hop inside before the carriage took off towards Hogwarts.

"You could have waited for Hermione," Ron said. "What's the rush?"

"I've got something to take care of," Harry muttered through clenched teeth. As they approached the castle, he could feel his rage rising inside of him. Soon, it would boil over.

But as the carriage pulled up to Hogwarts, he could see someone waving at him frantically. Harry quickly got off the carriage and put some distance between himself and Ron, so that Ron wouldn't be able to follow him to the dungeon. However, the waving figure ran over to him, and he saw that it was Colin Creevey.

"What is it, Colin?" Harry muttered, quickening his pace.

"Harry, I'm glad I caught you!" he said, out of breath. "You've got to go see Dumbledore _right now_. He said it's urgent." But Harry continued toward the stairwell that led to the dungeon, ignoring Colin's message. Colin grabbed the neck of his robes from the back to get his attention. "He sounded really angry, Harry. You've got to go to his office. He said if you didn't, he'd destroy your license." He looked Harry over, puzzled. "Did you get your driver's license or something?"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. As much as he wanted to get his revenge on Snape, if Dumbledore destroyed his license to practice Legilimency, he wouldn't be able to help the Order. And he couldn't sacrifice that license for the honor of a girl, no matter how much he loved her. His Occlumency training had been all about rational thought winning out over his emotions.

"Harry?"

"I'm going, Colin," he replied. Harry backtracked and took the stairwell that led to the second floor where Dumbledore's office was.

He took the stairs by twos and resisted the urge to sprint to the office. His heart was pounding in his chest, his hands coiled into fists. He was trembling with anger. He knew Dumbledore was going to try and stop him from doing anything to Snape. He could give it his best shot, but it didn't matter. Snape had proved himself to be the villain Harry always thought he was.

Harry muttered the password and trampled up the hidden stairwell. The stone gargoyle was no longer humbling. He was used to the headmaster calling him.

He'd barely reached the top of the stairs when the door flew open. With a start, Harry saw that Dumbledore was standing by the door, his wand raised.

"Come in and take a seat, Harry." Dumbledore's eyes were troubled and dark.

Some of Harry's anger turned into fear. He'd rarely seen Dumbledore with his wand out. What was he planning to do? Restrain him? Charm him? Harry took a deep breath and sat down in the chair opposite Dumbledore's desk.

Suddenly, Dumbledore muttered an incantation and the room was filled with a thick, gray smoke. It flowed from his wand and collected near the ceiling. He said something else – it sounded like Latin—and the smoke pushed outward and caked the walls, layering the portraits.

Harry cowered in his seat. Was this some kind of relaxation serum that would calm him? Would it knock him out?

Dumbledore put his wand away and sat down at his desk. "I can't risk them overhearing," he whispered. "Some of them are no longer loyal to Hogwarts."

Harry followed Dumbledore's gaze to the portraits on the wall. As the smoke covered the frames, each headmaster or mistress fell asleep, slumped back in their chairs and snoring. "The portraits?"

Dumbledore nodded. "They are odd devices. They're supposed to personify the previous headmasters, but are sometimes flawed. Not entirely trustworthy. Some have sister portraits inside the Ministry."

Harry found his voice. "The Ministry?" he barked. "What do they have to do with this?"

"Quite a bit, I'm afraid. The Ministry is still unaware of Eva's condition. If word got out, there would be trouble for all of us."

Puzzled and frustrated, Harry didn't know what to ask first. What the hell was Eva's job at the Ministry, or where to find Snape so that he could pummel him. The latter won, and he opened his mouth, about to let all of his anger towards Snape come pouring out in a stream of curses. However, Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him.

"First, allow me to say how deeply sorry I am for the attack on Christmas Eve. It's a terrible tragedy, and I very sorry for my part in the carelessness. I'm afraid it is my fault."

Harry didn't believe him for a second. He was just sticking up for Snape, as he always did. "Snape was supposed to be there. He was supposed to…"

"If you are going to blame anyone," Dumbledore declared, his tone more harsh than normal, "it should be me. However, I can see you do not agree. I know that you would like nothing more than to confront Professor Snape and make him pay for _my_ mistake by any means necessary. However, I propose a deal."

"A deal?" Harry questioned.

"If you agree to leave Professor Snape alone and to never speak of that night to him, I will allow you to do something in return. Something that I am sure will be well worth stifling your rage towards him."

"I doubt it," Harry muttered. He didn't like that Dumbledore was speaking to him about this. It was making him become more rational, more responsible. His Occlumency training was kicking in, and his anger was slipping further and further away by the second.

"On the contrary, I think that it will definitely be something that interests you. What I am about to tell you must be kept secret. Part of your Legilimency training will be to keep many secrets. You will be learning many things that have to be kept quiet. This is only one of them." He relaxed a bit, and sat back in his chair. "Do you know where Remus has been spending his transformations?"

That was the last questions Harry had expected Dumbledore to ask. It caught him off-guard. "Er… I hadn't really thought about it. I thought he would be hidden away in a forest somewhere."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid, Harry, that he's been right under your nose on the nights of the full moon. He has been staying on Hogwarts grounds. Professor Snape has been fixing the Wolfsbane potion for him for quite some time."

"I don't understand what this has to do with a deal," Harry interrupted impatiently. He wanted to be furious, and he felt he was losing all of his energy in this conversation.

Dumbledore smiled. "Now Eva will join him."

Slowly, Harry realized what that meant. Eva would not just be coming to Hogwarts for the last Quidditch match of the season. No, she would be coming for every full moon—just about once a month. "What are you saying, professor?"

"If you promise to never confront Professor Snape about the events of Christmas Eve, I will allow you to spend time with her during her visits to Hogwarts. She and Remus will arrive precisely twenty-four hours before the nightfall of the full moon, and you may spend the night, and the next morning—if you don't have class—with her."

Harry gulped. He felt his heart suddenly leap from his chest into his throat. A whole night with her? Did Dumbledore realize what he was suggesting? From the sparkle in his eyes, Harry almost thought so. But this was an unfair deal. Of course he would have to take his offer; there was no other choice. Seeing Eva once a month was even better than beating the hell out of Snape.

He was cautious before giving his answer. "I would get to spend all of that time with her _alone_?"

Dumbledore nodded. "You would, however, have to keep her hidden, and out of sight from anyone else. No one can know she is here. Not Nora. Not Ron or Hermione. But the time would be yours, yes."

Harry thought it was too good to be true. There had to be a catch. Dumbledore saw his hesitation. "There will be sleeping arrangements made, of course. However, you seem to know the secrets of this school better than I do. Certain liberties could be taken. I may be able to bend the rules."

He wasn't sure he was hearing Dumbledore correctly. He had the suspicion that there was more to this than he realized. But he couldn't worry about that. This was too good of a deal to pass up.

"Fine," Harry declared. "I'll take it." He tried not to smile too broadly.

"Good. I believe you are getting the better end of the bargain." Dumbledore returned his grin. "Now, directly behind my desk is a hidden room. In this room, there are no portraits, no mirrors, and no fireplaces. The room is entirely secure. There is even a backdoor that leads down the tower. This is where we will be holding our lessons.

"We need to discuss when your Legilimency training will begin. It is going to be difficult and not to be taken lightly. It requires intense concentration, and I expect you to practice on your own time, as well as give me all of your energy when we have our sessions. Because of the winter weather, there is no Quidditch practice, and because I know you will be on your best behavior, you'll no longer be serving detentions. So each school night, I expect you here, in my office, after dinner. You will have the weekends off."

"Yes sir," Harry replied. He knew that he should be feeling overwhelmed, because he barely had enough time to do his homework as it was, but part of him was excited to start studying with Professor Dumbledore. Anything was better than the long hours he'd spent in the dungeon with Snape.

"I expect you here promptly at seven o'clock." He smiled at Harry, then stood up and took out his wand, pointing at the portraits. The former headmasters slowly woke up and Dumbledore put his wand away. He approached the desk and spoke as if their last conversation had never happened. "You are free to leave."

"Thank you, professor," Harry said. Feeling light on his feet, he stood up and left Dumbledore's office. He fingered the Moon Guide in his pocket and realized that it was truly one of the best gifts he had ever received. Harry would be getting even more use out of it now.

Classes were back in session and the halls of Hogwarts were filled with newfound frenzy. It was a new term, and Ron had taken an oath that he was going to try harder on his studies this time, especially if he wanted to pass Potions in the spring. Snape was piling on the homework.

After attending his first Potions class of the new year, Harry found that he actually felt sorry for Snape. He was an old man with nothing to comfort him but flinging insults at Gryffindors all day. And now that he wouldn't be spending hours in the dungeon for his Remedial Potions lessons, Harry was much less stressed. However, he was still furious with him for what happened on Christmas Eve. He certainly didn't blame him any less.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were seated at their usual table in the Gryffindor common room one afternoon before dinner. Ron was griping about a project for Herbology, when Nora suddenly stormed into the common room and slammed the portrait door behind her. She was stalking up to the girls' dormitory when Harry shot to his feet. It had been a long time since he'd spent time with her. He certainly hadn't been a good friend.

"Nora!" he called. "What's the matter?"

Nora stopped in her tracks. She turned around and stalked over to Harry, looking red with an Irish temper that seemed to match her older sister's. "He gave me _detention_!" she cried. "Me! Detention!"

Harry led her over to an empty couch and sat down. "Who gave you a detention?"

"Snape!" she spat. "That old grubby, greasy, absent-minded…"

"Absent-minded?" Harry questioned. That didn't sound like Snape at all. Sure, he was grubby and greasy, but he always seemed to have his wits about him. "What do you mean? Why did he give you a detention?" Not that he particularly gave reasons when he was handing out detentions to Gryffindors.

"I corrected him on a potion ingredient," Nora replied. She crossed her arms over her chest. One of her dark curls fell in front of her eyes and she blew it out of the way. "It was wrong! I knew it was. What was I supposed to do? Just let it go? He was going to make Helen Warren drink it. She could have grown _antlers_! It could have been a disaster!" She paused for a breath. "And what does he do? Does he thank me? No. He gives me detention! And not just _one_ detention, but a whole _week _of it!"

Harry laughed and slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Did you really correct him?"

"Aye. And he really was wrong. He had to erase it and everything. I think he was completely embarrassed. I'm pretty sure he hexed me under his breath too, because right when he said 'Miss Finnigan' I felt like I was getting a zit on the tip of my nose. And look!" She pointed to it. "It's already red. What if it's a boil? Is he allowed to do that?" She frowned at Harry. "Stop laughing! I'm serious!"

Harry couldn't help himself. "You remind me so much of your sister when you're angry."

Nora softened. "You miss her, don't you? I do too." She paused. "But he was still wrong!"

"Don't worry. This is only the beginning of a long stream of detentions from him. Once you cross him, he never forgets it," Harry replied. "There's no use fighting it. He hates anyone in Gryffindor. But I'm sure he hates being proved wrong—especially by a first-year. You made a fool out of him."

Nora sighed. "It's just… I finally found something I'm good at, you know? Something that makes me a real witch. So many people in my classes come from generations of powerful wizards and I'm a nobody. A bastard child of an Englishman. A Mudblood…"

Harry shushed her. "Where did you hear that?"

"Everywhere," she replied solemnly.

"Don't listen to them," Harry said. "All of the pureblood talk is nonsense. You are a witch, Nora. A good one. Or else you wouldn't be here."

Harry's words seemed to encourage her. "You're right," she sighed. "But that doesn't get me out of a week's worth of detentions in the dungeon."

"I'm afraid not."She was quiet for a moment. She looked sad still. Harry didn't like to see her frowning. "How about a game of Gobstones?"

She scoffed. "What's the point?" Nora grinned. "You know I'm going to beat you anyway."

"We'll just see about that," Harry said. Nora took her books and ran up to the girls' dormitory to get her game. Harry still sat on the couch, deep in thought.

It wasn't like Snape to make mistakes. Perhaps all of his double-agent duties were finally taking their toll on him. Still, it troubled him that Snape was distracted. If he was, then that could mean danger for the Order. If he messed up, secrets could be spilled. Blood could be shed—again.

And when did Nora become a potions expert, anyway?

Hermione came over to the couch and took a seat next to Harry. "So what did she get a detention for?"

"Potions."

Hermione smiled. "Taking one for the Gryffindors, I imagine." She paused. "Listen, Harry. I talked to Luna, and she said that you agreed to do an interview for _The Quibbler_. I hope you don't mind that I took the initiative and asked Rita Skeeter if she'd do another interview."

"That's fine," Harry replied. "Did she agree?"

She nodded. "Last year's article turned out to be a great milestone in her career. She's eager for a sequel."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "That's the thing. I… I don't really know what to tell her or _The Quibbler_, for that matter. There is no story." It wasn't like the year before, when Harry had a tale to tell.

"Harry, you don't understand," Hermione said, quite seriously. "Everyone is walking around out there like nothing ever happened. They're ignoring it! Everything! With _The Daily Prophet_ under the Ministry's censorship, hardly anything about Voldemort has been published lately. The Azkaban breakout didn't even take up the whole front page."

"But Hermione, what am I supposed to say? Lock your doors? Sleep with your wand beneath your pillow?"

"You've got to do something. We've got to warn them, Harry."

"They know what they're up against," Harry replied. He thought back to when Mr. Weasley described the horror people felt when they would come home to see the Dark Mark positioned in the sky above their houses. "They haven't forgotten."

"But they're trying to," she said. "I would imagine that you, of all people…" She sighed and make a clicking noise in the back of her throat.

"What?" he questioned, rolling his eyes.

"Surely, I would think that _you_ can feel it."

"Feel what?"

Hermione's eyes darkened. "Danger," she replied somberly. "There's something in the air. Something's coming. Times are changing. Soon."

Harry frowned. He remembered Seamus saying that he felt a change in the air too. Harry didn't notice much difference. Voldemort had always been a black cloud looming over his head. He had been in such good spirits lately, but he supposed that was due to Eva. "You sound like Trelawney," he muttered.

"You can pick on me all you want," Hermione said, "but you know I'm right. It's your responsibility to say something. Your duty."

"My duty?" He sighed. "All right, I'll think of something."

Eva kept her promise and wrote Harry at least once a day. Harry was feeling guilty because he didn't have as much time to write back. Eva, however, didn't seem to mind.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm glad you're adjusting to school again. Life at the Burrow is different. I have to admit that it's a lot easier than living in Hogsmeade. The biggest change is all the food! It's amazing. Molly makes breakfast for everyone and she packs a lunch for the twins and me. I've never had regular, good meals so often in my life._

_Arthur and I leave for work in the mornings together, but he's almost always out on an assignment somewhere these days. I've been spending long hours at the office lately, so he beats me home when there isn't some kind of crisis._

_Molly always stays up and waits for me to get home. Then she fixes something for me to eat for dinner. She's so gentle—so motherly. It's been a while since I've had a mother. It's nice, but sometimes I feel like I'm suffocating. It's hard to join a family when you've been alone for so long._

_The Burrow is empty. It was hard to adjust to after everyone left. The twins are busy developing new products, and Arthur and Molly disappear after dinner. Sometimes Remus will spend the weekends with us. He and the Weasleys say it has something to do with the Order, but I get the impression that he's just very lonely now that you and Tonks are back at Hogwarts._

_He watches me like a hawk, which was sweet in the beginning, but it's getting slightly annoying. He still apologizes about Christmas Eve. He says he's looking after me, but I think Remus is grateful for the companionship, even if he feels guilty every time he looks at me. I've had the chance to ask him a lot of questions about our condition. I haven't gotten a lot of answers, but I feel more prepared for when the time comes._

_I miss you so much. When I'm not working, I just mope around the Burrow thinking about you. Molly says that I need to get a hobby. I don't even know where to look for one. I think I've forgotten how to have fun. I miss performing in front of an audience like I did at the Royal Realm. That job was a lot of fun. But I know that with all of my work at the Ministry—which is much more important to me—wouldn't get done if I had to perform in London every night._

_Maybe we could meet the next time you go on a Hogsmeade trip. Let me know what the date is, and I'll be there._

_Yours,_

_Eva_

Reading her letters only made Harry miss her even more. He wasn't allowed to tell her about how he was going to see her before every full moon. He was kind of glad it worked out that way though, so it would be a surprise.

She was still signing her letters as "yours." Harry hoped that the next time he saw her that would change.


	41. The Scoop

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just so we're all aware, I have been removed from the HP community and way of thinking for a very, _very_ long time. With recent enlightenments, such as the upcoming release of HP and the Half-Blood Prince as well as the fact that Katie Bell is a year older than Harry (haha), this fic is quickly becoming an alternate universe. I may make mistakes in the future that I don't feel like correctly and alter the Harry Potter reality in order to suit my own needs. Please don't get upset about it. I am trying to cut down on time here in order to continue this fic. I also apologize for any future grammar/spelling errors, as I won't have the FA mods to set me straight.

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**CHAPTER FOURTY-ONE**

**The Scoop**

"You're lying," Harry said flatly. Dumbledore's blue eyes pierced him from across the table. They were laughing at him. Taunting him.

"Are you just guessing, Harry?" Dumbledore questioned.

"No," he said defiantly. "I can see it's not true. I can tell."

"But my favorite flavor gumdrop has always been peaches and cream, ever since I was a child."

Harry frowned. Maybe he was telling the truth. Peaches and cream did taste really good. But he couldn't be distracted by his own logic. He concentrated harder. Soon he was seeing nothing but pools of deep blue. Darkening, deep blue. "No, sir. You're lying."

_I can just tell_.

Dumbledore grinned. "Well done, Harry. You're right. It's Lemon Leona."

Harry returned his smile, weakly. Even the easy stuff was giving him a headache. "I should have known it was something lemon."

"But the important part is that you didn't let that logic stand in your way." Dumbledore opened and desk drawer and pulled out a pouch of Bertie Blott's Every Flavor Beans. He set them on the desktop and offered some to Harry.

All of his Legilimency lessons ended with some sort of candy. Harry couldn't say he was disappointed, but he also noticed that the sugar seemed to help ease his mind. Though his last reading had been just for a bit of fun, the earlier lessons really wore him down. Sometimes he felt cross-eyed behind his glasses.

"All right, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes sir," he replied. "The candy, it's not just a reward, is it?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid not. The sugar helps breakup your intense concentration. Very similar to eating sweets after dealing with Dementors. Legilimency is very much a Dark Art, in some respects. It is treated with the same methods."

Harry was beginning to learn why. He had only been using Dumbledore as the subject of his lessons, which meant that he spent a long time staring at him each night. It was amazing how different Dumbledore's eyes looked each day. Sometimes they were old and wise, sometimes young and playful. He had even seen them sad and distant.

And on that particular night, when he had seen distance enter Dumbledore's eyes for the first time, it scared Harry. He had never seen him looking so sad. It wasn't even an old sadness–it seemed eternal. A sadness that covered ages.

But what startled Harry the most about that lesson was what he had seen in Dumbledore's eyes. Harry could only assume his mind had been weak that day, or Dumbledore would have never let Harry see what he saw.

It was only brief, for a moment, but when Harry recalled it, there were so many senses he felt from it, it could have lasted an hour.

There was a woman. She had long golden hair that flowed down her back, and it was soft and shiny. It felt like tiny strings of silk. Harry didn't know how he knew this, because he'd never seen the woman before, let alone touched her hair, but somehow he knew. Her eyes were gray and cloudy, and it was something that had bothered Dumbledore from the moment he'd met the woman. Harry could sense that it troubled him.

However, the cloudiness was reflected in his own eyes as he thought of her.

They were on a raft in a river. It was autumn, and the leaves had already fallen from the trees and were collecting on the banks. Some floated on the surface of the water, flowing downstream with their raft. Dumbledore, only a young man, stood on the raft, while the young woman sat in the center, cross-legged.

_"Want to go for a swim?"_

_She's beautiful. I could watch her. Forever._

But the woman didn't respond to his request. She watched the leaves in the water as they traveled together, down the stream.

_Why is she always so sad? Why is she like this? What happened to her?_

_"Are you just going to sit there all day? Don't you want to get in one last swim before winter?" _

Suddenly, the woman stood up. She did look sad, but it was almost in contemplation. She reached out and took Harry's–Dumbledore's–hand, and lifted it to her warm, rosy cheek. She spoke softly.

_"I could spend winter drowning in your eyes."_

And Harry found that though Dumbledore's eyes were quite deep, he didn't feel the same way. He had quickly recoiled from the bit of memory. But he still thought of it, and he could still hear her voice.

"Something on your mind, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. He had his hands folded on the desk, and was heavily focuses on Harry.

Now, more than ever, he saw how Legilimency was a burden. "Sir, I was just thinking… I… Well, I saw…" He was flustered. This was almost as bad as having to recall Snape's memory of his mother. Why did everyone remember only women? Why not Quidditch matches or Potions lessons? "Last week, I saw a woman. I didn't mean to. It just happened."

He didn't ask where. Harry assumed he knew what he was talking about. "What did she look like?"

"Long blonde hair, gray eyes."

"Ah… yes." His eyes seemed to return to that distant sadness. "She was quite a woman. You must have dug deep to find her."

"I-I'm sorry sir," Harry stammered. He didn't think that he knew how to dig deep.

"It's all right." A usual twinkle returned to his eyes, though not quite as bright. "I was only joking."

Harry was relieved, and thought about taking his leave. But he knew that now was the time to ask Dumbledore about something that had been bothering him. "Professor, can I ask you a question?"

"Certainly," Dumbledore replied.

"Why the special treatment?" When he looked confused, Harry continued. "Why are you allowing me to see Eva? I'm grateful for it, sir, but I just don't understand."

Dumbledore grinned. "Well, I think it is better than you sneaking off in the middle of the night to see her elsewhere." He said it harshly, but his eyes were kind. Harry tried not to smile. "And I feel that you have been punished enough lately. It's about time you were rewarded."

Harry got the impression he wasn't telling him the whole truth, but he didn't press anymore. He had been counting down the days until the next full moon, and he didn't want to mess anything up. "Thank you, professor."

Dumbledore merely nodded. "Also, your interview with Ms. Skeeter is to take place tomorrow afternoon in the Great Hall. Don't worry, it will be empty. And Harry, I don't think I need to remind you of the secrecy of our training."

"No sir," Harry replied. He hadn't said a word to Ron or Hermione either, though sometimes it killed him inside. He had to keep making up horrible things to say that Snape had done to him during Occlumency. Not that it was hard—he just didn't particularly like being dishonest with his two best friends. But if he was going to keep up the façade, he had to make it believable.

"We're all finished here," Dumbledore announced, putting the beans away. "Have a good night, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night," Harry replied. He got up from his seat and quickly left the hidden room behind Dumbledore's office, taking the back stairway instead of leaving through the main entrance. He still had a mountain of reading to do for Muggle Studies and he needed to polish off an essay for Tonks.

As he hurried up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, he heard two voices talking quietly in the corridor. Even though they were speaking in hushed tones, Harry knew it was Ron and Hermione. He walked down the hallway and saw them huddled behind a decorative statue. He knew he shouldn't spy on them, but the two hadn't noticed his presence yet.

"Ron, I'm so sorry. I really am. But it's the way I feel." She sighed. "Now is not the time to start a relationship. There's too much at stake. And we can barely function…"

"But it's already been started, 'Mione," Ron replied. Harry couldn't tell if he was whining or arguing with her. "I can't just turn it off."

"You have to."

"But why?"

"It's too hard." She took a deep breath and spoke quickly, like it was something she'd had on her mind for the longest time and had finally found the courage to speak it. "I know that you have strong feelings for me Ron, but even though you are the one person who is closest to my heart, it's not the same. I don't feel the way about you that you feel about me. It's not fair."

"It doesn't have to be fair," Ron said. "If we give it time…"

"That's just it. I _need_ time. I need space. I need a break."

"You mean a breakup," he said sadly.

"No. Yes. No." Hermione groaned. "I know you don't understand. You don't have to understand. You just need to know that I can't kiss you anymore and I can't meet you in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom anymore. I can't accept gifts with hearts on them from you anymore."

"You're giving them back?"

Hermione grabbed her locket protectively. "No, of course not. I'm not saying I don't love you. I'm saying not now. The timing is wrong."

Ron looked down at the floor. "Fine. Have it your way."

"Don't be like that," Hermione said.

"How am I supposed to be!" he cried. "I can't pretend that we never happened. I can't pretend that I don't want to grab you and kiss you every time I see you. I can't pretend that I don't think about cornering you in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom when I should be paying attention in class."

"Well, you have to start," she replied. "I know it hurts. It hurts me too. But I can't handle it all."

Harry knew that he had been listening in for far too long. He was hearing things he shouldn't. But he had always thought of Hermione as the strongest girl he knew—even stronger than Ginny. What couldn't she handle? Why was dating Ron causing so much stress for her?

"One day," she said somberly, "when this is all over, we'll try again. I promise."

"When it's all over?" Ron questioned. "That could be years! We could be dead!"

Hermione hushed him. "It won't be. I just know that I can't do this right now."

The two of them stood and stared at each other for what felt like eons to Harry. Finally, Ron looked away from her. "Timing is everything," he muttered. He turned his back on her and began walking away.

Hermione reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Don't go. Not like this."

Ron ripped his arm away from her. "You can't always have it your way," he spat. Stunned and stinging, Hermione watched as he stormed past her and into the common room.

Harry was afraid that he was going to watch Hermione crumple to the floor. He'd rarely ever seen her cry, and he could see tears forming in her eyes from where he was standing. But instead, she sniffled, wiped her eyes, and took a deep breath.

_She really is strong_.

Seeing that she had somewhat recovered from breaking Ron's heart, and out of fear that he would be spotted, Harry quickly came out from the shadows of the hallway and walked towards Hermione as if he he'd just come from the dungeon.

"Damn Snape," he muttered under his breath. "Hey, Hermione."

"Hi, Harry. Rough night?"

_Not nearly as rough as yours_, he thought. "Same as usual."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that I spread the word about D.A." She lowered her voice. "The coins are set. The meeting is this Friday evening at nine, right?"

"What?" Harry said. Friday night was the night before the full moon. Eva was coming. He couldn't have any plans. Dumbledore even gave him the night off of Legilimency. "I thought it was going to be Saturday night."

"But that's when the chess tournament is, remember? Ernie and Justin wouldn't be able to make it. I thought it would be okay to move it to Friday—unless you have plans or something." She raised an eyebrow at Harry. "I could change it."

"Uh, no. That's fine," Harry said quickly. It was better to avoid suspicion and confusion by not changing the time. He would just have to make the meeting a short one. Luna's plea for more meetings echoed in his mind, but he tried to ignore it. Eva was worth cutting one meeting short for.

When Harry and Hermione entered the Great Hall, Rita Skeeter was already there. She stood to greet them and flashed Harry a dazzling smile. "Where's your third wheel?" she asked.

"Third wheel?" Harry questioned.

Hermione sighed. "She means Ron. He's still in class." Harry suddenly began wishing that he, too, had signed up for the N.E.W.T. Herbology class. Then he could be listening to Professor Sprout's lecture instead of being interviewed.

"I see," she said, her smile brightening. "Well, have a seat Harry. Let's begin." She opened up her crocodile-skin handbag and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. Harry saw it was not just any pen, but her Quick Quotes Quill.

_Harry Potter, now sixteen, has grown out of his gawky stage and is now a regular Hogwarts heartthrob with his brawny good looks and wild dark hair. Despite the numerous threats to his life, he has managed to escape unscathed, except for the scar on his forehead, given to him by the Dark Lord himself, which will simply never heal._

Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. He hadn't really prepared something to tell Rita in the interview. There was no ground-breaking news – except for the escape from Azkaban. He was only going to tell her what Hermione had told him. He was just going to give a warning.

However, it appeared that Rita and her quill had their own ideas.

"So Harry, dear, how's your love life?"

"Excuse me?" Harry nearly choked on the air he was breathing.

_Still quick to blush, Harry shies away from discussion of his personal life. But behind those sad green eyes, there is a mystery. Is there a secret love at Hogwarts for The Boy Who Lived?_

"No!" Harry shouted. "What are you doing?"

"We talked about this," Hermione said firmly. "This interview is over if you continue this line of questioning. We're here to talk about Voldemort."

Rita flinched at the sound of his name. Harry watched the quill.

_Perhaps she is the sharp-tongued Hermione Granger, best friend and fellow classmate. Rarely seen apart, the two have been friends since their very first year at Hogwarts. Two years ago, it was rumored that these two were quite an item until..._

"It was a rumor you started!" Hermione cried, knocking the quill off the pad of paper. It fell onto the floor with a thud. "Rita, you can't print that garbage!"

"Don't ever touch the quill!" Rita cried. She got on her hands and knees and pick up the quill. She examined it, mumbling about how impossible it was to replace.

Harry didn't argue. He was about to tell Hermione to just let it go. What did it matter if people thought he was seeing her? Those rumors were old news. And she and Ron were on a break. Mrs. Weasley may be a little upset when she saw the article, but…

_Oh no_.

Mrs. Weasley would see the article for sure, which meant that she would most definitely pass it on to Eva. And if Eva saw this article about him shacking up with Hermione at school, Harry didn't want to even begin to think of how betrayed she would feel. Ginny was right. Any girl who was dating him—or even rumored to be dating—was going to be in the public eye.

While Harry had been lost deep in though, Rita and Hermione were still arguing. "You've got to sell some copies, Hermione!" Rita cried. "There's got to be something juicy. No one's going to read it if there's no story…"

"It's not Hermione."

Rita abruptly stopped shouting at Hermione and turned to face Harry, her eyes shining. Hermione's mouth dropped open. "What are you saying, Harry?" Rita asked.

"Yes, just what _are_ you saying?" Hermione echoed.

"My secret, er, love. It's not Hermione." Harry took a deep breath and tried to collect himself. What the hell was he getting himself into?

Rita's thin lips curved into a broad smile. She licked the quill and set it back on the pad of paper in her lap. "Go on, Harry. I'm listening."

"Excellent job, Luna," Harry said, watching Luna as she performedthe _Incarcerous_ spell. "I think you've mastered it."

Luna grinned. "Ron's an easy target."

Ron was pinned up against the wall, his hands twisted behind his back with think ropes of restraint. "No fair!" But he laughed when he said it, and Harry thought he was rather enjoying being partners with Luna for a change. She was good for him. She made him laugh.

The D.A. meeting was nearly drawing to a close. Harry already had them practicing banishing charms, and they were closing with a new spell that Professor Leurre had taught them to restrain captives. He was surprised how well everyone was doing, especially the younger students who hadn't learned the spell in class yet. He was impressed.

But there was uneasiness in the air of the Room of Requirement. Ron was paired with Luna, which was different, and everyone seemed to notice. Hermione was partners with Ginny; her usual spot beside Ron was taken. Ginny kept flashing looks at Luna and her brother, almost as if to ask them what the hell they were doing together, but both appeared to be oblivious.

All in all, it amused Harry. Hermione had clearly given Ron the brush-off, and even if she did it for noble reasons, it had broken a little part of his heart. It was nice to see him having a good time with Luna. He deserved it. It was innocent—all in good fun.

"Careful, Anthony," Harry warned, "or you'll end up breaking Terry's elbow."

Anthony Goldstein lowered his wand. Terry Boot, who was lying face down on the floor from the spell, sighed in relief. He slowly got to his feet. "I think you've got that one down," Terry said, rubbing his arm. Anthony swelled with pride.

"Nice job, everyone," Harry announced. "We're going to cut the meeting a little short tonight."

There were a few groans from his fellow classmates, but Justin **Finch-Fletchley** came over and gave him a pat on the back. "Thanks, Harry." He turned to face the rest of Dumbledore's Army. "Erine and I are in the Wizarding Chess finals tomorrow. We need to get a good night's sleep."

Harry was grateful he didn't have to think of an excuse himself. "All right, everybody. We'll leave the usual way. Ron and Hermione will be the lookout and…"

"Wait, Harry," Luna interrupted. All eyes turned to look at her. "When is our next meeting?"

"Well…" Harry's voice trailed off. He was just trying to play things by ear. He didn't have a set schedule. "How about the same time next Saturday?"

There were nods of agreement all around the room. Luna beamed Harry. "All right, so next Saturday, same time and place. We'll be working on the _Incarceratus_ spell again, so be prepared."

The pairs dispersed and were separated back into their houses. Hermione and Ron stood by the door and let the first pair go. Harry glanced at his watch. He only had ten minutes before he was supposed to meet Dumbledore, and hopefully Remus and Eva as well. He was just about to ask them if he could leave with the next group when he saw Cho approaching him. Harry gulped. She as still as beautiful as ever, and had enough power over him to make him nervous.

"Harry, can I speak to you for a moment, please?"

He hesitated. "I'm… I'm kind of in a hurry."

"It will just take a few minutes of your _precious _time," she snapped.

No, Harry decided, she didn't look quite as nice when she was angry. Not the way Eva blushed with her hot Irish temper. "What is it?"

She took a step toward him and lowered her voice. "It's about Michael and Marietta. I just want to know if you're going to give them a second chance or if you're just going to keep dancing around the subject."

"I can't trust them," he said simply. The answer to this question seemed clearer to him than before. Why did they deserve second chances?

"But you can," Cho insisted. "I know you can. They made mistakes. We all do."

Harry sighed. "They have to prove it."

"How?" she questioned.

He shrugged. There was no way to tell what they were thinking. He would practically need a polygraph test to determine if they were truly trustworthy or not. Where was he going to get one of those?

And then it hit him. He was a human lie detector. Practically every lesson with Dumbledore was trying to determine whether or not he was lying. But could he use it on Michael and Marietta? Would that jeopardize the contract he signed? Could he lose his license?

But it was worth a shot. And at least it would get Cho off his back.

"Fine. I'll meet with them next week," Harry declared. "I've got a few questions to ask them before they can come back."


	42. A Wintry Moon

_A/N: Yeah, I know it's been a long time since an update. Oops. But I'm hoping to continually update before HP&HBP comes out. I have been hesitating about posting this chapter because, well, it's the first time that this fic lives up to it's R (or M, I guess) rating (in my opinion, anyway). So let me know what you think. I feel like I'm crossing the line here. If you want to be notified of updates, you need to join the Yahoo! Group called lastgoodnight at http / groups. yahoo. com / lastgoodnight / join. Just take out the spaces, or search for lastgoodnight group._

**CHAPTER FOURTY-TWO**

**A Wintry Moon**

After he set up a time to meet Michael and Marietta with Cho, Harry took off and sprinted downstairs to the portrait of the fruit that led to kitchen below Hogwarts. Dumbledore had instructed him to sneak to the kitchens and he would meet them down there.

Harry had forgotten all about paying a visit to Dobby when he couldn't sleep. When he first got down to the kitchen, the house-elves were busy cleaning up from that night's dinner.

"Sir!" a nearby house-elf squeaked. "What can we do for you sir?"

"Er… I'm looking for…" Harry replied.

"Harry Potter! Harry Potter, sir!" Harry recognized the familiar squeak of Dobby the house-elf. He came running towards Harry, skidding to a halt on the smooth floor due to the over-sized socks on his feet. He was also wearing a plaid vest trimmed with golden thread. "Dobby thinks Harry Potter forgot all about his friend!"

"Of course not, Dobby," Harry replied. "Er, I brought you a gift." He pulled a scarf out of the bag that he had used for the restraining charm. Dumbledore had told him to bring his invisibility cloak to meet him also, so it was well-hidden inside the bag. The scarf, however, was one of his best, but he knew Dobby would put it to good use.

Big tears formed in Dobby's eyes. He blinked, and one splashed at his feet. "Beautiful, Harry Potter sir!" he squeaked. "Dobby is not worthy of such a beautiful hat!" He immediately took the scarf and tied it around his ears. "Would you like some tea, Harry Potter, sir?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I don't really have time to talk tonight. I'm looking for Professor Dumbledore."

There were gasps from the other house-elves. They all stopped what they were doing and stared at Harry. Dobby spoke quickly. "Surely you is mistaken, sir. Surely. The headmaster is busy tonight sir. He is not here."

"But I know he's here," Harry replied. "I'm supposed to meet with Professor Dumbledore."

"Harry Potter should not be here, sir. Dumbledore is dealing with danger tonight. Very dangerous, much too dangerous for Harry Potter to be involved in. No sir, you is not allowed to see him."

"Danger?" Harry questioned. What was going on? Were Remus and Eva in danger?

Suddenly, Dumbledore stepped into the kitchen. From where, Harry didn't know. "It's all right, Dobby. Harry will be here for the meal." He disappeared back into the shadows of the kitchen.

Dobby's eyes widened and he bowed his head. "Dobby is sorry, Dumbledore, sir." He glanced at Harry fearfully. "Please, follow Dobby, Harry Potter, sir."

The house-elves were still quiet and eyed Harry suspiciously as he followed Dobby deeper into the depths of the kitchen. Dobby snapped his fingers and a panel of the wall disappeared into the thin air. When Harry peered inside, he saw a small, circular wooden table set with china. There were two places set, and a platter of sandwiches on the table.

"Dobby, what is this?" Harry questioned. "What danger are you talking about?"

"Danger is coming for dinner, sir." Dobby wrung his ears nervously. "Great danger for wizards." When Harry still looked confused, Dobby beckoned him to bend down so he could whisper in his ear. "Werewolves is coming for dinner, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby begs you to be careful."

Harry wasn't sure whether to thank Dobby for his concern or be offended by his assumption that werewolves were so evil. Sure, they were dangerous to humans when they were actually wolves—and that wasn't until tomorrow night. But before he could respond, Dobby squeaked, which sounded more like a shriek, and scampered outside of the room.

"Be careful, Harry Potter, sir. Now there is two of them." He gave a low bow and disappeared.

"I thought you two might like to have a bite to eat together," Dumbledore explained, "to catch up."

Dumbledore reached the doorway, then gestured for the person behind him to enter. It was Eva. She stopped dead in her tracks.

"Harry!" she cried. She ran over to him and threw her arms around him. "What are you doing here? How did you know…?"

He squeezed her tightly and took her in. The smell of her hair, the feeling of her arms wrapped around him. He closed his eyes and kissed her on the top of her head. "Dumbledore said that we could spend time together until your, er, transformation."

When she pulled away from him, she was smiling, but she looked different. Wild. Her hair seemed longer than usual, and her blue eyes looked stormy. "I'm so happy to see you," she said quietly.

"Me too." He was about to pull her close to him again, but then he heard someone clear their throat from the doorway. It was Remus. Harry blushed, and quickly went over and gave Remus a hug. "How are you Remus?"

"Just fine," he replied, smiling. He turned to Dumbledore. "I think we ought to leave them to it, don't you?" Dumbledore nodded.

"But isn't this for you and Eva?" Harry questioned.

Remus shook his head. "No, it's for the two of you. I've got someplace else to be. In fact," he said, unbuttoning the top of his coat and pulling out the chain he kept his Moon Guide on, "I don't think I'll be needing this anymore." He stepped forward and slipped the chain around Eva's neck. "You keep it." He winked at Harry.

Confused, Eva thanked him for the beautiful jewelry. Dumbledore grinned at Harry. "After the two of you are finished, you are free to roam, as long as you remain hidden." Harry nodded. So that was why Dumbledore had him bring his cloak. "Whenever you're ready to turn in for the night, you can come back down to the kitchen and the house-elves will make suitable arrangements for you."

"Thank you, professor," Harry said.

"Behave," Remus warned.

The two of them turned around and left the room. Harry couldn't believe that this was for real. He turned to Eva and immediately grabbed her and kissed her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him, so that he could feel every bit of her pressing into him as his mouth searched hers.

They separated breathlessly. Harry couldn't stop smiling. He wanted nothing more than to pick her up, bring her to his bed, and promise her that he wouldn't leave her again. He hadn't forgotten his private oath to tell her how strong his feelings were for her.

But as she backed away from him, she nearly collapsed in the chair at the tiny table. Harry quickly strode over to her. "Are you all right?"

She nodded and smiled. "Just a little overwhelmed. I can't believe you're here."

However, Harry could see that she wasn't exactly herself. He'd forgotten that Remus was usually quite ill for the transformations, perhaps more after than before. But it did seem to take a while for Eva to catch her breath. Concerned, he lifted his hand to her cheek. "How do you feel?"

She batted it away. "I'm fine." Harry watched her skeptically. "I'm nervous. I don't know how to explain it. I'm tired, but I'm anxious. It's like… my body knows something is coming."

Harry took the seat opposite her and put a sandwich on her plate. "You should eat something."

"Not you too!" she whined. "Mrs. Weasley says the same thing. I'm not hungry, damn it!"

He saw her temper, so he knew that even though she was a little out of sorts, she was still all right. "Or we could skip dinner and go to desert."

Eva raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

Actually, Harry didn't have anything planned. What could they do? Where could they go? It was already past curfew. All of the other students were in bed, which was good, because they wouldn't be spotted easily—especially with the help of the invisibility cloak. "Want to see Gryffindor Tower?"

She nodded. "I'd love to."

Love. Harry needed to tell her. If he didn't tonight, he never would.

Eva stood up from her seat. "How are we going to sneak around?"

"With my invisibility cloak." He picked up his bag near the doorway and held out his hand to her. She grinned and took it.

When they turned the corner, Dobby was standing near the door, wringing the scarf that Harry had just given him in his hands. He jumped. "Harry Potter, is you okay?" He glanced fearfully at Eva.

Eva stared at the creature before her. She bent down so she was on eye-level with him and put her hand out, almost as if to pet him. "Wow… a house-elf!" she cried. Harry laughed. At least she knew what one was. "With clothes! Amazing! A free house-elf!"

Dobby recoiled from her hand. "Harry Potter is who freed me, miss. He freed me from a terrible master, miss, and I is forever in debt to him."

"No, you're not," Harry replied. "Eva, this is Dobby. My friend, Dobby." Dobby's eyes gleamed with happiness. "Dobby, this is my girlfriend, Eva."

Dobby looked ashamed. "Oh dear, Dobby is sorry, sir. If Dobby had known…"

"That's all right," Harry interrupted. "Listen, Dobby, about her sleeping arrangements…"

"They will be ready in moments, Harry Potter sir, Miss Eva," he interrupted, bowing low to both of them.

"No, wait," Harry said. He glanced at Eva. He wanted to spend all of the night with her, not just a few hours. "Would it be all right if she didn't come back tonight?" He paused. He didn't know if he would be able to get away with it. He glanced at Eva, whose eyes lit up at the idea. "Is it okay if she spends the night with me?"

Dobby adjusted the scarf Harry had given him around his head, hesitating. Harry hadn't meant to give his best scarf as a bribe, but if Dobby allowed them to steal the night for themselves, Harry knew he was getting the better end of the bargain. "Certainly, sir," Dobby chirped. "Eva, miss, you will need to be down here by noon for when Professor Snape comes."

Eva nodded and grinned at Harry. They were going to get away with it. Harry didn't know how he was going to pull it off, but Eva was going to spend the night with him. "Thanks, Dobby," Harry replied. Afraid the house-elf would reconsider, he quickly grabbed Eva's hand and led her up the stairs.

"I… I hope you don't mind," Harry stammered. Perhaps spending the night was too much of a suggestion. "I thought you wouldn't mind sleeping with me." No, wait, that didn't come out right. Harry didn't think she was ready for that. Hell, he didn't know if he was ready for that. "Not sleeping with me! I mean… "

Eva squeezed his hand and smiled. "I know what you mean."

Before they reached the first floor, Harry took the invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map out of his bag. "What's that?" Eva questioned, pointing to the piece of parchment.

"A map," Harry replied. "It shows who is wandering around Hogwarts."

Harry could tell that she was impressed as he pulled the cloak over Eva's head. He, too, disappeared underneath it. Magically, it covered both of them from head to toe. "Stay close to me," Harry said. He let go of Eva's hand and carefully walked up the stairs.

The halls of Hogwarts were nearly deserted, except for Filch, who was pacing up and down the second floor corridor. They made it to Gryffindor Tower without difficulty. Harry made sure it was empty before uncloaking both himself and Eva.

"Wow…" she breathed. "This is amazing."

Harry nodded and put the Marauder's Map and invisibility cloak into his bag. He watched as she studied each darkened corner of the room. The main fireplace was still lit, but the lanterns that hung on the walls had been snuffed out long ago. "I wish I could give the grand tour, but I don't want to light up the place and wake anyone up."

"I just can't believe I'm here," Eva replied. "I really thought I wasn't going to see you until spring. I guess being a werewolf can have its perks." She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Harry sat down on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Eva plopped down next to him. "Are you afraid?"

Her grin disappeared. "Aye, it'd be a lie if I said I wasn't. But it's inevitable. There's nothing I can do to stop it. It's like death." She shivered. "But it's only one night."

"You'll be okay." He didn't know if he was saying it to reassure her or himself. Harry leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. It was so hard for him to keep his hands off her. When she was this close to him—so close he swore he could hear heartbeat—he wanted to touch her and kiss her constantly.

She stretched out on the sofa, laying her head in Harry's lap, facing the fireplace. She sighed as he pulled her hair away from her face and began playing with the curls. He didn't know he could be so content, or that being so close to someone could be so easy. Eva made it easy for him. So easy that the words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.

"I love you."

Harry was glad that it was dark because he knew that he was blushing something terrible. A small smile played upon Eva's sleepy lips. "I love you too, Harry."

He didn't know how long he watched Eva sleep in his lap, but the fire in the fireplace had disappeared and only the coals were smoldering orange. Suddenly, Eva sat up, as if she'd just been startled. "Sorry, I must have fallen asleep."

"It's all right," Harry replied, yawning. He got up from the couch and stretched his legs. "We'd better… er… go up to my dormitory."

"Are girls allowed up there? Nora told me that Dennis Creevey tried to get into the girls' dorm and the stairs turned into a slide or something."

Harry laughed. "Same thing happened to Ron. But I think it's only the girls' stairs. Hermione has been in our dormitory loads of times. Not with me," he added quickly.

"Oh…okay," she replied. This time, Harry saw that she was blushing.

"You'd better put the cloak back on, in case anyone wakes up. Just stay close to me and no one will see you. I'll close the curtains around my bed, and you can go inside and, er, get comfortable to go… go to bed." He cleared his throat. "I'll change outside and put a silencing charm on the curtains, so that when they're closed we can… talk and no one will hear us."

Eva gave a nervous laugh. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"

Harry merely grinned and took the invisibility cloak out of his bag and draped it around her shoulders. He quietly walked up the stairs to the boys' dormitory with Eva at his heels. When he opened the door, the room was pitch black, and all that could be heard was the sound of Neville's snoring.

Eva latched onto his arm as he directed her to his bed. He quickly closed the curtains on both sides. She took off the invisibility cloak and handed it to Harry, who quickly hid it inside his trunk. Eva disappeared beneath the canopy over his bed.

Harry's heart was beating so hard in his chest he was surprised that it didn't wake anyone up. What was Eva expecting? What was he supposed to wear? Normally, he would just wear his boxer shorts to bed. But should he wear a shirt? Would she think that now he told her he loved her, he was expecting to get in her pants because he was just wearing boxer shorts?

This is Eva, he reminded himself. It didn't matter what he wore. He was being too self-conscious. He quickly undressed and decided on a clean pair of boxer shorts. He took off his watch, the Timepiece wristband, and his glasses and sent them on the nightstand. He muttered the incantation for the silencing charm on the curtains and put his wand in his nightstand drawer. He took a deep breath and slipped between the curtains.

Harry's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he saw her in his bed. Her jeans were folded neatly at the foot, and she was just wearing a t-shirt. And he tried to pretend he didn't notice that she had removed her bra as well. "I don't really have anything to change into to sleep in," she whispered.

"You look just fine," Harry breathed. "Beautiful."

Eva blushed. "You look different without your glasses."

Harry pulled the blankets away from the head of the bed. "I know," he said quickly. "I look better without them. There's this spell that can correct my vision, but it's kind of risky and I haven't really looked into it. But someday I might…"

"I like your glasses," Eva interrupted. She grinned. She had just realized that Harry was as nervous as she was.

Harry smiled back foolishly and slipped underneath the covers. Eva crawled from the foot of the bed and slid underneath with him. The Moon Guide was still dangling around her neck. She curled up next to him, so that her head was on top of his chest and one hand was draped over his torso. Her hair tickled his skin and her warmth made his breath quicken. She looked up at him. "Did you really mean it?"

"Mean what?" Harry questioned, reaching down to rub her back.

"That you love me."

She looked away form him as she said it, almost as though she didn't believe it. He cupped her chin with his free hand and turned her head towards his, making her look into his eyes.

"Of course I did. I do." Didn't she believe him? "I love you, Eva."

She couldn't hide her smile. Suddenly, she pulled herself up, straddled Harry's waist, and leaned over, kissing him roughly on the mouth. "I love you, too."

Caught in the heat of the moment, Harry reached up and seized the back of her head and pulled her into him. He could feel her chest against his own, breathing heavily. Her legs intertwined with his and her hands gripped the sheets beneath them, trying to steady her position. Harry kissed her forcefully as his hands wandered from her hair down to her back, and slipped between their two bodies. He cupped her breasts through her shirt, and she moaned inside his mouth, and then pulled back for air. Harry quickly lifted his head and began kissing her again, his mouth searching hers. His hands found the hem of her t-shirt and he pulled it upward, exposing the bare skin of her belly and beyond.

She covered his hands with her own, and he quickly slipped his hands beneath her shirt, trying to pull it upwards. Then he realized that she was trying to pull it down. She pulled away from him and sat on his torso, still straddling him.

"What… what is it?" Harry questioned, out of breath. Eva had one hand over her chest, and the other positioned over her stomach. She looked frightened.

"Nothing," she answered, a little too quickly, and leaned over to kiss him again, but she was still covering herself.

"Wait. What's the matter?" Harry sat up, and Eva shifted her weight so that now she was sitting in his lap instead of on top of him. He reached forward and pulled at the bottom of her shirt, not because he wanted to see what was underneath, but because he thought there was something wrong.

"No! Don't, Harry." She moved both hands on either side of her hips.

"I… I don't understand," Harry replied. "What is it?" He continued trying to lift her shirt.

"Don't look!" Eva cried suddenly. She gave up her fight as Harry pulled the shirt over her head. Her hair fell across her bare shoulders as she tried desperately to cover something on the right side of her body.

"Don't look at what?" Harry began. Her naked body was beautiful and entirely distracting. Even in the darkness he could see the curves of her breasts as they swayed slightly from all of the heat between them. But then he saw what was bothering her. She couldn't hide it. There was a long scar that stretched from the base of her neck all the way down the side of her body until it was level with her belly button. "Oh Eva…"

She grabbed her t-shirt and draped it across her bare chest like a towel. "There's no magic strong enough to hide the scar a werewolf bite," she whispered bitterly. She was embarrassed—ashamed.

Harry threw the t-shirt to the foot of the bed and leaned over so that his face was directly in front of her. "Do you think that matters to me?" He put his hand up to his forehead and pulled his hair back to reveal his lightning bolt scar.

Eva smiled meekly. "I… I guess not…"

He licked his lips and began at the top of the scar in the nape of her neck and kissed it, trailing all the way down the side of her body. Eva trembled. Harry pushed her so that she was lying on her back with her head at the foot of the bed and continued to kiss her until he reached her belly. Then he pulled himself up to her lips and kissed her. "You're beautiful."

She gasped as he trailed kisses down from her lips, to the nape of her neck, and then to her breast, as he tugged playfully at her nipple with one hand and took the other in his mouth. He let go and slipped one hand into the waistband of her undergarment and pulled it down to her knees, while still playfully kissing her breast. With his free hand, he steadied himself, and then parted Eva's thighs with the other. She moaned his name and arched her back, and Harry could feel her heat on his fingers.

God, he loved her.

___A/N: Did they have sex? No. Not yet. And I suppose that this last scene should have been awkward, given how Harry is... er, so viriginal. But let's just say he was following his primal instincts.  
_


	43. Honest Illusions

_A/N: Can you believe it? Two chapters in two days? It's Christmas in July, people! Enjoy! Share your comments and review!_**  
**

**CHAPTER FOURTY-THREE**

**Honest Illusions**

When Harry woke up the next morning, light was already peering between the curtains of his bed. He was on his back with Eva in his arms. He was content, watching the rise and fall of her bare chest. He desperately tried to concentrate on other topics—such as Quidditch statistics—instead of the curves of her body and the soft feeling of her flesh against his. He had little success. The blood was rushing from his head to another part of his body, leaving him dizzy.

He couldn't believe she was in his arms. He couldn't believe Eva was his. When did he become so lucky?

Eva stirred and stretched her arms above her head, yawning. Then, suddenly realizing how naked she was, she pulled the sheet up and covered herself, blushing. "Morning," she said.

"Good morning," Harry replied. "Sleep well?"

She nodded and tugged at the Moon Guide. The chain was still hanging around her neck, the guide dipping between her breasts. "What is this?" she questioned. "It changed color. Is it one of those mood stones?"

Harry shook his head. He rifled under his pillow and pulled out the other Moon Guide, which matched the shade of the one that hung around her neck. "It's a Moon Guide. It's a magical device. As the moon approaches, this stone gets darker and darker. Remus gave one to me for my birthday to keep track of the moon." He hesitated, not sure if he was supposed to tell her all of its secrets. "Also, it's sort of a surveillance item."

Eva raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Harry lifted the Moon Guide to his eye. "When I look inside of it, and say the right incantation, I can see whoever is wearing the other one, and vice versa."

She studied the guide closely. "So when I look in here, I can see you?"

"Actually, I don't think you can, because you're a Muggle. The incantation won't work. But I can see _you_ whenever I want," he added, seeing she was disappointed.

"Well, I'll just have to wear it all the time, won't I?" she said, proudly puffing out her chest.

"Don't ever take it off."

"Never ever?" she teased with an eyebrow raised in the direction of where Harry's blood was currently flowing.

Turning serious, Harry said quietly, "Never ever." He reached over and intertwined his fingers with hers and kissed her forehead.

"I won't," she replied. "What time is it?"

"I'm not sure, actually." Harry hadn't heard any sign of life in the dormitory, but that could have been due to the silencing charm—which he was very grateful he had thought of for the night before. "Want some breakfast?"

She shrugged. "I'm not very hungry."

"I could go down to the Great Hall and bring something back for both of us. Or we could sneak down to the kitchen. I'm sure the house-elves would fix something in no time." He paused. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she replied. "That sounds fine. I'll get dressed." She sat up and collected her clothes that were no longer in a neat pile at the foot of the bed.

"Mind if I watch?" Harry asked jokingly. He grabbed her one more time and kissed her roughly. She kissed him back, but he could see her heart wasn't in it. He pushed a few strands of hair out of her face and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. "You're burning up."

"I… I think it's the transformation. I'm sorry," she apologized. "I feel so… embarrassed."

Harry laughed nervously. "You don't have anything to apologize for—especially after last night," he added. "And you definitely have no reason to be embarrassed." Eva grinned, her face turning red. He cleared his throat. "I'll get dressed and give the invisibility cloak to you to sneak down to the kitchens. Then you'll have to stay right behind me, and make sure to not run into anyone. I bet the common room is full of people right now. And the hallways too."

Harry opened the canopy curtains and slipped out into the daylight. He quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater, then checked his watch. It was almost eleven. She had to be in the kitchen by noon anyway. He took the invisibility cloak out of his trunk and poked his head back inside the canopy. Eva was already dressed back into her jeans and t-shirt. She took the cloak and draped it around her shoulders and disappeared. Harry held the curtains open and saw a slight movement as Eva got out of bed.

"Late night?"

Harry jumped. He heard Eva gasp, and he tried to cover it up with a cough. Seamus was across the room, digging for something in his trunk. "Ah… yeah. Remedial Potions and all."

"Snape's a bastard," Seamus muttered. "Did you hear he gave little Nora a detention? And she's never made trouble for anyone."

"I heard," Harry replied. "Well, I'd better get to the Great Hall and get something to eat. I'll see you later." Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he left the boys dormitory. He could hear Eva's quiet footsteps behind him.

The common room wasn't too full. Harry didn't take the time to look around and made a beeline for the door. They quickly went to the portrait of the fruit. Harry tickled the pear and the portrait swung open. When they were safely inside, Eva took the cloak off. Harry took it and put in his bag.

"Think anyone saw you?"

"No, except…" She hesitated. "I swear Nora's kitten looked _right _at me."

Harry grinned. "I think cats can see straight through the cloaks."

Eva crossed her arms over her chest. "Nora didn't tell me she got a detention. Why'd she get it?"

"She corrected one of her professors. He didn't like it very much."

"Who?"

"Snape." Harry didn't even bother to try his hatred for the man. "He teaches Potions."

He was also the one to blame for the attack on Christmas Eve, but Harry didn't want to tell Eva that. She was growing paler by the second and he didn't want to upset her. "Let's go. I'm starving." He took her hand and helped her down the stairs.

The house-elves scurried around them and set up the room they were in last night for brunch. All but Dobby acted as though Eva was a ticking time bomb. Eva, however, seemed indifferent to all the fuss, and appeared to be struggling to stay awake. Even breathing wore her out. When the food magically appeared on the table, Harry found that he lost his appetite. Instead, he scooted his chair over next to her and rubbed her back until noon.

Saying goodbye was the worst part. Harry barely got to kiss her one last time before she followed Remus and a handful of house-elves into one of the hidden doors in the kitchen. Dumbledore met them with some last-minute instructions about when Snape would be arriving to administer the potion.

"Will I get to see her again before she leaves Hogwarts?" Harry questioned, watching her disappear.

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore replied. "She'll be quite ill after the full moon. The transformation takes a toll on one's body. Then she'll have to return to the Ministry." He turned and smiled at Harry. "You'll see her next month. Valentine's Day, if my calculations are correct."

That seemed so far away to Harry. "Well, thank you, professor. I'm really grateful for spending time with her."

Dumbledore nodded. "Love is like war, Harry. Easy to begin but very hard to stop. You'd better get back upstairs before Professor Snape sees you."

"He doesn't know I'm seeing her?"

"Would you be able to trust him with Eva if he did?" Dumbledore questioned.

"No, I guess not." Harry imagined that Snape would love to take his revenge on Harry by doing something horrible to Eva during her transformations. He may have caused the attack, but now she was depending on him to make her changes less painful and dangerous.

Dependent on Snape. What was a nightmare.

Harry, Michael, and Marietta were seated at a round table in the center of the Room of Requirement. It was silent except for Marietta's nervous chatter as she answered Harry's questions. After, of course, he'd remembered to collect their membership coins. Her words were not registering with him, or rather, he didn't care what she was saying. It was all about how she felt.

His Legilimency lessons had been progressing smoothly. Harry didn't know how to explain exactly what happened when he uttered the incantation, but the more he practiced, the more confident he felt. He hadn't used his skills on Dumbledore much, but he did get to use them on willing house-elves. Harry had "read" Dobby a few times, but he found that the better he knew someone, the more uncomfortable he felt using Legilimency on them.

Usually, he only got a feeling of whether the subject was being honest or not by concentrating on the eyes. However, more and more frequently he was able to pick up images from someone's subconscious—or even sounds or feelings. The most powerful senses he felt were of smell. Whether it was the aroma of something pleasant or the stench of fear, it always clouded his mind and made it hard to concentrate on anything else.

And there were times when he didn't even need to use the incantation. Sometimes, when his guard was down or he was feeling particularly tired, he could merely look someone in the eyes and get images or sounds or feelings or smells from them. It was these times that worried him the most. He didn't want to see anything he wasn't supposed to.

He had asked Dumbledore's permission to interrogate Michael and Marietta. The headmaster said that it would be his first true test of his skills. Now he was beginning to see what a burden they truly were.

"It was a moment of weakness," Marietta continued. "I know that you can't afford to be betrayed, but you have to understand, that Umbridge woman was horrid…"

It was no good. She couldn't be trusted. Harry grasped a few of her thoughts: _Why is he staring at me like that? When will this be over? Doesn't he understand that I want to be back in? I bet he's playing favorites. He just has Cho in the stupid club because she snogged him last year._

Harry concluded within minutes that Marietta's pure motivation for wanting to be in D.A. was jealousy. Cho had everything. She was beautiful, she was Quidditch captain, she had a boyfriend—a fellow Ravenclaw**—**who Marietta had a crush on for years. She wasn't even sorry for ratting D.A. out last year to Umbridge.

"I'm sorry, Marietta," Harry said, interrupting her. Her face was red. "I just can't let you back in to Dumbledore's Army."

"But…"

Harry shook his head. "These are dangerous times. I think you would be much safer if you weren't involved in our club." And Harry thought that his D.A. family would be much safer without someone like her around who couldn't be trusted.

Marietta seemed to pout. _Fine, I'll tell everybody about your stupid club_. Harry quickly interrupted her thought. "And if you ever speak of it to anyone, another curse will befall you." He held up the contract that Hermione had written. It was binding that if either Michael or Marietta spoke of Dumbledore's Army, they would be immediately hexed. He was very glad Hermione had thought of it, otherwise there was no stopping Marietta from telling the whole world about D.A. However, the curse was quite complex, and even Hermione wasn't exactly confident in her spell.

Defeated, Marietta sat back in her chair and absent-mindedly played with one of her reddish-blonde tendrils, pouting. Harry denounced her as a lost cause and turned to Michael. He was suddenly glad that he had his Legilimency skills, otherwise he would have believed Marietta's argument, which would have only caused trouble in the long run.

Harry began with the same line of questioning. "Why should you be back in D.A.?"

Michael glanced at Cho, who standing near the entrance with her arms crossed over her chest, listening to the interrogation. "Well, last year, the only reason I wanted to be in Dumbledore's Army was because Ginny was in it. I was her boyfriend, and I wanted to spend more time with her." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "But now it's different. I want to be in D.A. because I actually care about the cause."

_Rubbish_.

Harry had already caught him in it. So he, too, set out to deceive him. He wanted to be back in D.A. not because he cared about the battle, but because he wanted to get Ginny back. As Harry concentrated on Michael's dark eyes, he muttered the spell a little louder to probe deeper into his mind and give himself an extra magical boost.

He could see Ginny in Michael's thoughts: their secret meetings outside behind Hagrid's Hut and in a corner of the dungeon from the year before. One time he showed her the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower, which was not the brightest idea, and quite stupid, really. He wanted her back, but Harry had trouble deciding whether it was for his physical desires or not.

Harry shuddered. He was going way too deep into Michael's memories—and Ginny's private experiences, for that matter. The less he knew of their relationship, the better.

For some reason, he felt an obligation to keep Michael away from her. He didn't know if it was the brotherly protectiveness he felt towards her or that he was a little jealous of their past relationship himself. He was, after all, a guy, and he had kissed Ginny. Or rather, she kissed him. It was only human nature to…

_Malfoy_.

He did a mental double-take. What dark corner of Michael's brain had that image come from?

They were having a conversation. No, an argument. Something didn't work. He tried not to get distracted, but the image of Malfoy had shaken him deep into his core. Michael was bargaining with him.

_"What's in it for me?"_

Draco sneered and pulled out a small flask from his robe. A bright potion, red as blood, was inside of it. There was something special about this potion, something about the way it sparkled.

_"I know that Weasley's got the better of you. I know she humiliated you last year."_

_"So?"_

_"So wouldn't you like to get the better of her? Wouldn't you like to pay her back?"_

Draco tossed the flask to Michael, who caught it in midair. He held the opened the flask and sniffed the contents. He shrugged.

_"What's this?"_

_"A love potion."_

_"I'm not going to play some silly school girls' games with her, Malfoy."_

Michael was about to throw the potion back to him, but Draco held up his hand, stopping him.

_"It's not just any love potion. It makes the drinker completely submissive. She will be your slave for two hours. Only a few drops and you can settle the score with Ginny Weasley_."

Harry gasped. His first assumption had been wrong. Michael didn't want to join D.A. so that he could win Ginny back. He wanted to join D.A. so he could take his revenge on her.

He felt his blood run cold. It took every fiber of his being not to reach across the table and beat the hell out of Michael Corner. How could he stoop so low?

"You're out, too," Harry barked. "You can't be trusted."

Michael shook his head, confused. "But Harry, I really think I could help…"

"No." Harry glanced sideways at Michael. Maybe he had the potion on him right now. He doubted it. It was too precious and needed to be hidden away. Harry had to get it and destroy it. It was too dangerous in the hands of a horny, vengeance-seeking teenager.

Harry shuddered to think what could have happened if he hadn't found out about the potion. The gift of Legilimency may be a curse that gave him extra responsibilities, but at least it taught him that no one could be trusted. If he had been judging Michael purely on his argument, he would be back in D.A. as well.

"Harry, what are you saying?" Cho demanded from the doorway. "After all of this time, after all these ridiculous questions, you're still not going to let them back in?"

Harry glanced over at her. When he met her eyes, he saw that they too were clouded with ulterior motives. Behind her façade of beauty, there were secrets lurking, and Harry wasn't ready to find out what they were. He'd had enough surprises for one night.

"They made honest mistakes," Cho continued. "They admit that. They're sorry. Isn't that good enough?"

Harry shook his head. "It's not good enough." He stood up from the table. "This meeting is over. I warn you again, if you speak of this meeting, or of Dumbledore's Army to anyone, you will be hexed at once." He couldn't look either of them in the eyes.

Marietta scoffed and quickly left the Room of Requirement. Michael cast one long look at Harry, shrugged, and walked out of the room. Cho turned to leave as well, but Harry stopped her, and beckoned her to come closer to him.

He wasn't imagining things. He could see she had her doubts about D.A.—especially now that Harry had accused her two house-mates of being deceitful. He could see that she had some of the same untrustworthy characteristics that Michael and Marietta possessed. "If I were you," Harry whispered, "I'd make sure that I knew where my loyalties are. Don't forget who you pledged your honor to."

Before she could reply, Harry turned sharply and hurried out of the room. He didn't want to know what he would find inside her mind.

Harry didn't bother to sneak around, but swiftly walked straight to Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore had asked Harry to report to him about how the interrogation went. Harry didn't think he meant as soon as the meeting was over, but he had no choice. What he had found out was so disturbing and so utterly unbelievable that he had to tell Dumbledore immediately.

Harry muttered the password and quickly hurried up the stone staircase. He no longer felt the nervousness or apprehension of being called to the headmaster's office—he'd been there many, many times. Harry knocked on the door, more loudly than he intended, and he heard Dumbledore call for him to enter.

The headmaster didn't delay Harry with any pleasantries. He motioned for Harry to take a seat. "What have you learned?"

"Michael has a potion," Harry said breathlessly. "It makes the drinker become completely submissive. He wants to… He wants to use it on Ginny…"

Dumbledore nodded. "I am aware of the potion that Mr. Corner has in his possession, but I assure you that it does not do what he thinks it does."

"How did you know…?" Harry began, but stopped in mid-sentence. Of course Dumbledore knew. Harry should have known he would never let anything so dangerous fall into the wrong hands.

"Let's just say that I have eyes and ears everywhere," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling. "He hasn't used the potion, then?"

"I don't think so. I don't know, exactly. I only saw that he got it from Malfoy."

Dumbledore nodded, stroking his beard. "Mr. Malfoy has been attending some nightly Potions lessons himself, courtesy of Professor Snape. He thinks he has been learning the darkest, most powerful of Potions. But I am afraid that Professor Snape has gotten the ingredients slightly out of sorts." Dumbledore smiled. "I have been keeping an eye on Mr. Malfoy. And did you find Mr. Corner to be trustworthy?"

"Of course not," Harry replied. "I don't care if he actually used the potion or not. His intentions were completely foul."

"And what of Marietta?"

Harry sighed. "She wanted to be back in for all the wrong reasons." He hesitated, but he thought he should tell Dumbledore everything about the meeting. It was, after all, his first test of his Legilimency skills. "I could see some of those same reasons in Cho. I'm not entirely sure that she's trustworthy, either."

"It is a burden," Dumbledore said quietly. "Sometimes you will see things you don't want to. But Harry, I feel congratulations are in order. You've passed your first test with flying colors."

"I have?" Harry questioned. He thought he did well, but there were still other things he wanted to find out, especially about Michael.

"Indeed. The fact that you can recall the images—the memories—of your subjects is quite amazing, really…"

"But I still haven't learned how to find out everything I want to," Harry interrupted. He felt like a Pensieve sometimes, collecting the thin silvery strands of memory that he'd seen Dumbledore extract with his wand.

"It will come with time. You've only been at it for a little over a month. You have already exceeded my expectations." He grinned. "You probably don't even need to speak the incantation anymore, am I right?"

Harry blushed at the compliments. "Er… Well, no, not really. Sometimes it helps when I can't quite concentrate. But when I meet someone's eyes, I can tell instantly if they're lying. It's a flash of brilliance, and then it's gone. It's happening more and more." In fact, Harry wasn't sure of how to turn it off. "How do you stop it?"

Dumbledore laughed lightly. "It is difficult. You'll learn to control it. But the memories are what trouble me. Even I, Harry, cannot see memories without using the incantation. I'm afraid you have surpassed you teacher already. There is only one other Legilimens I have heard of that can see inside a person's mind without a spell."

"Voldemort," Harry said. He didn't need to use his skills on Dumbledore to figure it out. "But how is that possible?" Harry questioned.

"I imagine that, like Parseltongue, he has transferred some more of his powers to you. However, it also works with your Occlumency training. The more you empty your mind of emotion, the more space you have to fill it up with your Legilimency skills—what you see in someone else."

"So now you're telling me that I need to work backwards," Harry said, "to be more… sensitive in order to stop seeing everyone else's memories?"

"I'm afraid so, Harry," Dumbledore replied. "Quite ironic. Tom Riddle never asked me how to stop his mental intruding throughout our training. He never wanted to turn it off. He always wanted to see as much as he could see. He took advantage of others as often as he could. There was no deceiving him. And there is no deceiving Lord Voldemort today."

Harry slumped back in his chair. He suddenly felt very tired. Despair seemed to wash over him. To the untrained eye, Michael and Marietta were two perfectly good candidates for D.A. They were smart and ambitious. Yet they couldn't be trusted. How many more people would he find that couldn't be trusted either?

"I know that you haven't had much of a break," Dumbledore said, interrupting his brooding, "but I'm afraid that I must give you an assignment."

"An assignment?" Harry questioned. "From who?"

"The Order, of course," he replied. "For the next week, Draco Malfoy will be spending each night in Defense Against the Dark Arts detention." His eyes sparkled. "And you, Harry, will be joining him."

_A/N: Dumbledore is quoting Henry Louis Mencken when says that, 'Love is like war...' One of my favorites, and quite fitting, no? Also, the title of this chapter is the title of a book by Nora Roberts which I highly recommend. _


	44. Assignment: Draco Malfoy

**CHAPTER FOURTY-FOUR  
Assignment: Draco Malfoy**

Dumbledore sat across from him. He was not smiling, but his eyes were twinkling mischievously. "Your assignment is to use your Legilimency skills on Mr. Malfoy and to find out as much information as you can."

Harry tried not to seem disappointed. This was supposed to be real work for the Order and all he had to do was gather information? "So I'm just investigating him?"

Dumbledore nodded. "You're receiving your detention for missing class, and he is receiving one for using racial slang in an essay he wrote. Professor Leurre is going to make the two of you duel during your detentions. This will give you a lot of time to concentrate on Mr. Malfoy, and even whisper the incantation if need be."

So he was going to spend an hour staring at Malfoy every night? What kind of assignment was this? "Sir, isn't there something else I could do?"

"I assure you, Harry, that your assignment is very important. The Order is counting on you to get information that we cannot get ourselves."

So they were just using him. Receiving orders wasn't as glamorous as he hoped it would be. "Why can't you just call Malfoy into your office and use Legilimency on him yourself?"

"It's unethical, Harry. I must abide by the laws. And I am not as strong as you are. It is not an option. The Ministry has entrusted me with my license, and using my skills on Mr. Malfoy would jeopardize everything. Because you are still in training, there is more legal leeway for you. And you have no magically binding contract that will get you fired from your job." His eyes were serious now. "This is very important, Harry. Malfoy must not find out that you are studying Legilimency. If anyone finds out, it could be disastrous."

_So much for telling Ron and Hermione_, Harry thought. He hated keeping secrets from them. This one would just have to be kept quiet for a little longer.

When Harry woke up on Sunday morning and stumbled down to the Great Hall for breakfast, he didn't notice the odd stares he received in the Gryffindor common room, or the girls' giggles in the hallway. In fact, he didn't notice anything was out of sorts until Hermione marched up to him while he was eating his breakfast and threw a copy of _The Quibbler_ on the table.

"You've _really_ done it this time, Harry!" Hermione cried angrily.

Harry continued to eat his oatmeal, glancing at the cover. The headline was printed in big, bold letters:

_When Harry Met His Match_

_Is Romance In the Stars for the Boy Who Lived?_

"So what's the problem?" Harry questioned. He tried to keep himself from blushing. He had publicly announced he was dating someone, so what?

"No one is ever going to take you seriously again!" Hermione exploded. "This article accomplishes _nothing_. You were supposed to put out a warning that Voldemort is still at large and dangerous!"

"Shh… Hermione, calm down." People were beginning to stare, especially after she had shouted the Dark Lord's name.

"I think it's sweet." Seamus was sitting a few feet away from Harry at the Gryffindor table. He and Dean were sharing a copy of the newspaper.

"Sweet!" Hermione shouted back at him. "I bet you won't think it's that sweet after you find out who he's been snogging!"

"Sit _down_," Ron commanded, coming up behind Hermione and forcefully pushing her onto the bench. Thankfully, Seamus missed what Hermione had said and was looking at one of the puzzles in the magazine. Harry glanced at Ron, silently grateful for his attempt to stop Hermione from making a scene.

"Harry, I don't think you understand the seriousness of this…"

"And I think you're overreacting," Harry interrupted. "It's a harmless article. It's gossip."

"Hardly," she snapped. "Have you even read it?"

Harry sighed and put down his spoon. He picked up the magazine and flipped to the cover story.

_Mystery Muggle Captures Harry's Heart_

_Spring is approaching and romance is in the air—especially for one famous wizard studying at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry Potter is in his sixth year of study, and when he is not busy with his schoolwork or catching the Snitch on the Quidditch field, he spends his time pining away for one very special Muggle girl._

'_She makes me want to be a better person,' Potter says, blushing red as he speaks of her. 'She may not be a magical being, but she's cast her spell on me.'_

Harry groaned. Malfoy was definitely going to get him for that quote—which he didn't even say. He remembered mentioning something about how Eva's lack of magic didn't bother him. He didn't even notice it. The article went on to describe how they had spent their winter holidays together, and how Harry wouldn't mention her name. He may have even seen the word marriage somewhere. The article was filled with clichés and his twisted words.

He glanced up. Both Ron and Hermione were watching him read apprehensively. "What is it?"

"Read the last paragraph," Ron said.

Harry thumbed through a few pages until he came to the end of the article.

_Though Harry's secret love may distract him from his studies, he still is still spreading the message that war is on the horizon. 'Voldemort is still a threat. Every day that nothing catastrophic happens is just another day for him to spend on his evil plot." _

_However, when asked about the horror at Azkaban, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, contradicts Harry's theory. "That boy is just as delusional as he was last year. There is no threat from a horrible wizard who no longer exists. It is the idle threats of a schoolboy trying to impress his classmates. The boy still yearns for attention. It's all rubbish!"_

Damn Rita. After everything he'd told her about how the war was coming, and how they couldn't forget about Voldemort, she had end the article making him look like a delusional schoolboy.

"Still think it's harmless gossip?"

Defeated, Harry hung his head. "I'm truly sorry, Hermione. But there's nothing I can do about it now." He wiggled his spoon around in his oatmeal, having lost his appetite. "The damage has been done."

"So undo it," Hermione suggested.

"How?"

"Another article. This time, have somebody else write it, and we'll make sure that the right message gets across."

"Who's going to write it?" Harry questioned. "Rita Skeeter can obviously not be trusted to get the message across."

"I could write it," Hermione said.

"Or Luna," Ron replied. "Her dad will let her write because it's his paper, and we can make sure that she sticks to the topic at hand."

Harry tried not to notice the sickening look Hermione had on her face at the mentioning of Luna's name. He hesitated. "I don't know about this. Maybe I should just lie low for a little while…"

"You're going to have to," Ron interrupted, "because of your newfound _love_." Was that the subtle tone of jealousy Harry heard in his best friend's heart? "But we were also thinking that you could give a speech at the Muggle Debate at the end of the term, and then give out copies of the article to the whole school."

Harry gulped. "A speech?" There was no way in hell he was getting in front of the entire student body of Hogwarts and lecturing them about Voldemort. "I'd sound like I'm nutters."

"Don't you see, Harry?" Hermione said. "They have to be warned. They need some sort of preparation or else when the war really begins, they'll get lost in the chaos. You owe it them, Harry."

He didn't really think he owed any students at Hogwarts anything. After all, he'd thwarted Voldemort numerous times, saved the school from a Basilisk, and prevented the deaths of many of his peers. But he held his tongue. Hermione was right. It was his responsibility.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was usually very messy, but when Harry arrived for his detention with Tonks, she had already cleared an area at the front of the room for dueling.

"Good evening, Harry," she greeted, rather rigidly. However, there was a certain bend to her smile that indicated Tonks was still behind the façade that the other students knew as Professor Leurre. "Mr. Malfoy should be joining us shortly." She nodded to an empty chair for Harry to sit in.

Harry wished he could speak freely with her and ask her about Remus. Eva wrote him at least once a day, and she almost always dedicated a paragraph or two to Remus's behavior. He had been staying at the Burrow ever since the last full moon, and whenever she was home he wouldn't let her out of his sight. He'd even shown up at the Ministry twice, which was beginning to make other people suspicious.

Malfoy slammed the door behind him as he entered the classroom. He walked swiftly to the front of the classroom and stopped just short of Professor Leurre's desk. "What the hell is this for?" he demanded, gesturing to the empty space.

"Watch it, Mr. Malfoy," Tonks replied. "You and Mr. Potter are going to be dueling for your detentions this week."

Malfoy glanced at Harry. "What are you in here for, Potter?" he spat. "Too much brown-nosing?"

"Come now, gentlemen," Tonks interrupted. She gestured to the two of them. "Please stand up, face one another, and pull out your wands."

"I know how to duel," Malfoy snarled.

"And you know that if you get fresh with me one more time I'll give you another week's worth," Tonks snapped. Harry tried not to grin. Tonks had really evolved from her clumsy old self to a smart and sassy teacher.

Harry was having flashbacks to his second year when Malfoy tried to sic a snake on him during Lockhart's dueling club. He quickly got up from his seat and stood at one end of the classroom. Malfoy stood at the other, his wand already in his hand, poised for action. His eyes narrowed at Harry and his lips curved into small, sly smile.

_I've been waiting so long to do this again_.

Harry jumped. He wasn't prepared for "hearing" Draco so easily. It was one thing to read the thoughts of Dumbledore or Dobby or even Michael Corner, but having Draco Malfoy's thoughts bombard his head was a little unnerving.

"Scared, Potter?" Malfoy's thin lips grew into a wider smile.

"You need a new line, Malfoy," Harry muttered. But in truth, he was a little afraid of what he was going to find out about Malfoy's past. After all, there had to be a reason he was such a racist bastard.

"_Densaugeo_!" Draco shouted, trying to hit Harry with the same teeth-enlarging curse that he had hit Hermione with in their fourth year

Harry dodged it just in time. This was going to be harder than he thought. If only he had some way subdue Malfoy. He raised his wand, eyes focused on Malfoy, and shouted, "_Petrificus Totalus_!" Malfoy fell to the ground, paralyzed. Harry kept his wand raised and glared into Malfoy's beady gray eyes.

"_Legilimens_…" he whispered.

He was in the dungeon. Snape was in front of him, reading off potion ingredients. Harry's blood still boiled at the thought of the greasy old man from what happened on Christmas Eve. However, using his Occlumency training, he did his best to put his feelings aside and concentrate before he lost the image. It must have been during one of their Advanced Potions lessons. Snape was speaking harshly.

_"It's an illegal substance. I cannot dirty my hands at Hogwarts to get it. However, as a student, you may have some leeway."_

_"How?"_

Draco seemed shocked by this information. He was curious. He approached the Potions Master cautiously.

_"You can order it from her and she'll send it to you with one of her miniature-bred trained dragons. But I must warn you, you must only touch it with dragon-hide gloves or you will lose a limb."_

Suddenly, the paralyzing charm wore off of Draco. Harry jumped and lost his concentration. The image was lost. Malfoy sat up, red-faced and sputtering, "So you want to play rough, do you Potter?"

He got to his feet and pummeled Harry, without warning, with a stinging hex. Harry feltneedle pricks in his gut, right where Malfoy had hit him. He somehow managed to dodge the next spell that Malfoy threw at him. He was beginning to reconsider even trying to get any information out of Malfoy. It was hard enough to keep himself from getting jinxed.

But suddenly, as his eyes connected with Malfoy's, memories flew at him. Draco running to the arms of his mother as a child. The first time he rode a broomstick. The day he got his letter from Hogwarts.

The next series of images passed by so quickly, Harry barely had time to register them all. It had taken place when Draco was younger, but Harry recognized the Slytherin Crest stitched into a drape in the background. He was at Hogwarts. There was a bit of holly hanging from a candle on the wall and it was snowing in the bright moonlight outside. Winter.

He was on top of someone on his bed. Kissing her. Ravaging her. Harry could feel the way her lips felt against his. They were slimy – full of makeup and gloss. He looked down.

Pansy Parkinson in her pinkdress she wore to the Yule Ball was beneath him. It was fourth year. Somewhere Harry felt sick, but as Draco, he didn't care. She was a warm body. He had his fingers wrapped in her darkhair and pulled, perhaps a little too roughly. Pansy squealed beneath him. She arched her back, giving him just enough space to unbutton the back of her dress.

"_Get off her."_

He kissed her one last moment, as an act of defiance, and then looked over to the voice. His father was standing near the fireplace, wiping soot off his cloak. _Lucius_. Rage welled up inside of Harry – of Draco – as he got up off his bed. He had no shame, no sense of regret. He was angry he'd been interrupted.

"_Come with me."_

"_What the bloody hell for?"_

Lucius's lips curved into a hideous grin. His fist coiled around the staff he carried, his eyes dark with contempt.

"_It's time for you to become a man."_

"_I believe that's what I was just doing."_

Draco gestured to Pansy, who was trying to button up the back of her dress, but failing miserably. Lucius glared at her. Frustrated, she held up the front of her dress and hopped off the bed. She scurried away, out of sight, her high-heeled shoes clicking in the darkness. Lucius was angry at Draco's smart mouth.

"_You think doing that will turn you into a man? You've got a lot to learn, boy, much more than I thought. You aren't a man until you've had your first kill. It's time to finish something that I should have taken care of long ago."_

The words echoed in Harry's brain. He was vaguely aware of muttering a sponge knees curse and pointing his wand at Draco, but his mind felt as though it were in two places at once. He was split.

Lucius had his wand raised and pointed at a woman who Harry had never seen before. She was in her kitchen, sinking to the floor in agonizing pain. She was a Muggle. Harry could see electrical appliances on the countertops and Christmas magnets on the refrigerator.

The woman's face was twisted in pain. Her eyes were cloudy. She was in a stupor where the pain was all she could think of. He could take pleasure in that.

"_Do it boy! Do it now!"_

But the look in her eyes, the heavy breathing he heard from the bedroom, it all made him hesitate. Who was this woman? Why was he wasting his time on a worthless Muggle?

"_Are you a coward! KILL HER!"_

He raised his wand. Nobody called him a coward. Worthless Muggle. Idiot father. He wasn't going to kill this woman because his dear daddy ordered him to. No, he was going to do it out of the pure hatred he felt for all Muggles.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Astream of green light burst from the end of his wand and hit the woman directly in the chest. From somewhere inside, she managed a scream of terror. Surprised, he nearly dropped his wand. But she was dead seconds after the spell hit her. The life was gone from her eyes as she stared straight at him.

_The first of many_.

Harry suddenly felt a searing pain in his knees as he realized that Draco had hit him with a swelling charm. He cursed and fell to the floor.

Tonks intervened. She stood up from her desk, and pointed her want at Harry, muttering the counter curse. "Take a break, gentlemen."

"You need one, Potter," Malfoy spat. He grinned at Harry with his beady eyes.

Harry stayed on the floor to catch his breath. That was enough information for one night. Now it was time for him to kick Malfoy's ass.

Harry's detentions with Malfoy had left him exhausted, both physically and emotionally. He had learned more about the Malfoy family in the past few days than he'd ever wanted to know. Most of the information was obscure. For example, Malfoy and his father routinely dueled, during which, Draco was beaten to a pulp. Harry was surprised that he wasn't any better at it—he'd had enough practice at home.

But he found that Potions was most definitely Malfoy's strong point. Even before he went to Hogwarts, he brewed them with his own cauldron set in his home, and would test his creations on stray animals. During one of these disturbing sessions, a stray cat grew an extra claw.

Ron and Hermione noticed that whatever Harry was doing every evening, it was certainly taking its toll on him. Once, he returned with quite a large bruise on his forearm.

"Rough night?" Ron questioned, eying the wound.

Harry flopped into a chair in the common room. "Ridiculously rough. Snape hit me so hard I backed into the extra cauldron."

"Snape?" Hermione questioned, looking up from her homework. "I thought you had detention with Malfoy again."

Harry gulped. That's right; he was supposed to be having detention, not spending his time in the dungeon with Snape. How could he have been so careless? "I did. I mean, I was supposed to. But then Snape came and got me halfway through to practice, er, remedial potions."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at him. "Oh really?"

"Yes, really," Harry replied, a little too quickly. "It's been a hard week, you know! I've got to spend every waking moment of the day going to class or doing homework, and then spend my nights in detention or the dungeon. It can get rather stressful, you know?" The words came out more harshly than he intended, and that only caused more suspicion from Hermione.

"Lay off him, 'Mione," Ron said. "He can't even keep track whether he's coming or going."

Hermione didn't buy it, but she didn't argue with Ron. In fact, she scarcely talked to him at all anymore, except for when Harry was around.

Harry flashed Ron a smile of gratitude, but only saw that he, too, didn't believe a word that was coming out of Harry's mouth. "Hedwig is waiting for you upstairs. She had a letter," Ron added. "Funny, she didn't know where to find you either."

Stinging, Harry rose from his seat in the common room and quickly followed the stairs up to the boys' dormitory. He hated keeping secrets from his friends – from everyone. He couldn't tell them about his Legilimency training because they'd probably think he spent his time reading everyone's minds. He couldn't tell them about Eva or Remus coming to Hogwarts for transformations. Once they found out the truth, would they ever trust him again?

Part of him thought about how Eva would react if she knew he was studying Legilimency. As a Muggle, she would be more likely to think that he was reading her mind, not Ron and Hermione. The gift of Legilimency scared Harry. Surely, it would scare his friends even more.


	45. Spying

**

CHAPTER FOURTY-FIVE

**

**Spying**

Hedwig was perched on Harry's bedpost. There was a single letter on his bed. He recognized Eva's handwriting on the outside, and after giving Hedwig a pet of gratitude, he ripped the envelope open eagerly. She wrote him daily, usually after she got home from the Ministry, which Harry had found out with help from the Moon Guide.

More than anything, he wished that he could have been with her after her transformation. She must have been so frightened and felt so alone when the full moon finally did set. He wished could have been there. Every day he was tempted to sneak into the Restricted Section of the library and get as much information about studying to be an Animagus as he could. After all, if Peter Pettigrew could learn to do it, Harry should be able to do it too.

The problem was that he didn't have time. His studies were getting more and more complex. He spent most of his time doing his homework or working on his Legilimency. There was little time for fun or writing to Eva. He was looking forward to when Quidditch started back up again. Dumbledore promised to give him time off of Legilimency for practices.

Harry sighed and got into his bed, not bothering to undress. All he wanted to do was read Eva's letter, check up on her using the Moon Guide, and fall asleep knowing she was safe. He closed the canopy around his bed so that he could have his privacy. He took his wand out of his pocket, whispered "_Lumos,_" and began to read.

_Harry,_

_Things are really coming together at work. Today was a long day, but I'm making some progress. In a few weeks, I'll have my first true evaluation. I can't write about it, but the next time I see you, I promise I'll tell you everything. In fact, I need your help!_

_Speaking of next time, I'm not sure if you realized it or not, but the day before the full moon is Valentine's Day. I was thinking that maybe we could do something special—like sneak away to Hogsmeade—as long as I'm up to it. Maybe we could go back to my old room in the Hog's Head and celebrate—unless you're one of those people who hates Valentine's Day and the commercialism of it all. If that's the case, I'm fine with spending the night in your bed again. I don't need a holiday for a reason to be close to you._

He was fairly certain that his heart had melted at that point. However, even though he did want to celebrate Valentine's Day with Eva, preferably somewhere more private than the boys' dormitory, he didn't think that Eva would really be up for the long trek to Hogsmeade. Perhaps she could make it there at night when her strength was still fair, but in the morning it would be daylight and they would be easier to spot, especially if Eva was too weak to move swiftly.

_I can tell how fast the full moon is approaching without even glancing at the Moon Guide. My body knows it. I can sense it. I don't know how to explain it. I feel like there's a calendar inside of my body that is in sync with nature. Even though the transformation is terrible and grotesque, I can't help but feel that it is also beautiful. Though we are unnatural creatures in daylight, during the full moon we are a part of nature. It sends shivers down my spine to think of it._

_I hate to end this letter, but I need to get some sleep. If Fudge notices I'm under the weather around the full moon he'll be suspicious. It's bad enough that I have to make excuses for why I'm not at work. Luckily, telling him it's because of "female problems" is usually enough to make him stop asking questions about my whereabouts._

_I can't wait to see you, even if it means that I've got to go through everything all over again. Write back soon._

_All my love,_

_Eva_

Harry sighed. Night was the worst. He thought of the last night before the full moon and longed to be close to her again. He never thought he could feel such physical pain for a girl.

He glanced at his watch. Eva should be back at the Burrow by now. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the Moon Guide. It was growing darker by the day. After hesitating a moment—because sometimes he felt like a sinister spy—Harry whispered the incantation.

"I solemnly swear I only want to watch." He lifted the small orb to his eye and peered inside. Slowly, the darkness grew brighter and brighter until Harry could make out a fuzzy picture, as though watching an old television. The orb vibrated with power as the scene became clearer.

Eva was in Ginny's bedroom, where she spent each night, staring out the window, as she had done at her room in the Hog's Head. He liked the way the moonlight reflected on her pale skin and made her eyes shimmer in the darkness. She was already dressed for bed in an old tank top and sweatpants. Harry found himself wishing he had been watching earlier.

There was a soft knock at the door that made both Harry and Eva jump. Harry almost dropped the Moon Guide before he realized that it was coming from the Burrow. Eva quickly grabbed a crumpled t-shirt from a pile of clothes on the floor and put it on, disguising the scar on her chest. "Who is it?"

Mr. Weasley poked his head inside the room. "Eva, may I have a word?"

"Certainly," Eva replied. She gestured for him to enter.

He took careful steps into the room, studying the floor. His hands were shoved into his pockets. Harry couldn't help thinking that he looked guilty about something. "I thought we might have a little chat about the… er, confrontation you're planning."

Alarmed, Eva quickly went over to the other side of the room and closed the bedroom door. "You promised that what's happening at the Ministry stays at the Ministry. We can't discuss this now."

"The Ministry isn't safe, Eva. This is the only place I can speak to you and know that whoever may overhear our conversation will not sabotage your plan."

Eva crossed her arms over her chest. "If I didn't know any better I'd say that was exactly _your_ plan, Arthur. Do you know how much paperwork I've had to fill out to meet your regulations? Do you know how much convincing it took to ensure Fudge that I would not need an Obliviator with me?"

"Those are necessary precautions. I'm only preparing you for the chaos that will follow if all goes according to plan," he interrupted. "Eva, if anyone is on your side, it's me. I admire your spunk. I believe in your ideals. However, I am one of few people who do."

"What are you saying?"

Mr. Weasley sighed. "I know you believe what you're doing is right, but others will not think so. In fact, there are many who will try to stand in your way once the ball starts rolling—if it even does. I just don't want you to be in for a rude awakening."

"A little late for that," Eva muttered quietly. "I can assure you that I know what—and who—I'm up against."

"Do you really?" Mr. Weasley remarked. "If your project succeeds, there are many who will do anything to stop you from continuing. _Anything_."

"Whether it succeeds or not, no one is going to find out. It's still confidential. The only people who know are you, me, and Fudge."

"Fudge is not your supporter. He could turn his back on you in an instant, especially if he found out about your condition. I've seen it happen."

"Aye, well, I did receive that impression when he said that if I didn't succeed next week he'd sack me." She chewed her bottom lip as Harry noticed she always did when she was nervous. "I can't even think about what will happen if I succeed. I can only think about what will happen if I don't."

The room was silent for a few moments. Arthur took a step towards her and put his hands on her shoulders in a purely father-like gesture. "You could still back down, you know. You don't have to go through with it. You could go back to research."

"And study Muggle life forever?" Eva questioned. "No. He has to know the truth. He deserves the truth," she said defiantly.

_He_? Harry wondered. Who was she talking about?

Arthur sighed. "But you're risking everything on one person."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take." Eva shrugged Mr. Weasley's hands off her shoulders. "And it's not going to be just one person. It's only the first step. One person will lead to more."

Mr. Weasley grinned. "I can see there is no changing your mind."

"No sir."

He gave a short nod. "Well, goodnight then."

"Goodnight," Eva replied.

Arthur lingered in the doorway for a moment, then in one swift stride he was by Eva's side again. He quickly gave her a kiss on the forehead. Harry was glad Mr. Weasley was there to do it because he couldn't do it himself. "Don't stay up too late. And don't stand by that window for too long—there's a draft. You could catch something nasty."

Eva laughed. "Yes sir."

However, when Mr. Weasley disappeared from the room, Eva dimmed the light and returned to the window, her face filled with worry.

Harry watched her for a bit longer, then took the Moon Guide away from his eye because he couldn't stand to watch her misery and not be able to do anything about it. _"I have seen all there is to be seen."_

He slipped the guide back into his pocket. His curiosity was overwhelming. What was Eva's big project? Was Fudge really going to sack her if she didn't succeed? Succeed at what? And why would everyone be against her?

But the question that bothered him the most was who was she risking it all for? Was it him?

Filled with questions, Harry got out of bed and changed into his bedclothes. While he had been spying on Eva, curfew had passed, and everyone was in bed and asleep. He climbed back into bed, wide awake and waiting for sleep to overcome his questions.

The night crept by at a snail's pace. Eventually Harry did fall asleep, but morning came too soon. He woke up a few minutes early to write a letter back to Eva. He liked to write in the mornings because he felt fresh, and he was usually in much better spirits than in the evening. Harry pictured Eva receiving his letter during her breakfast at the Burrow, chatting with Mrs. Weasley over a cup of tea.

At breakfast, it was clear that Ron and Hermione both thought he was still keeping something from them—which he was. He wished there was someway he could assure them that if it was up to him, he would tell them everything. But he couldn't even admit that something was going on.

He hated keeping secrets from those closest to him. He imagined Eva did too.

Harry found that he left his detentions with Malfoy feeling utterly confused. The more time he spent with Draco, the easier it was to "pick" his brain. However, Harry had no idea when the images he received took place. He didn't know how to arrange them in chronological order. The day before, he had seen images of Kreacher, hobbling about in the darkness, calling Draco "young master," which he assumed were from the summer. Harry had also seen different images of Malfoy fighting with his father. Some were from when he was a boy, but most appeared to be more recent.

However, there was one particular image that Harry could put a date on. It had been earlier in the year, during their Quidditch match, when Malfoy had caught the snitch. It appeared that somehow— Harry wasn't quite sure—he had managed to use a switching spell. He was in Draco's mind, he was on his broomstick. He spotted the snitch near Harry, but had no way of reaching it. Then, literally by magic, the Snitch was in front of Malfoy's face, and the Snitch that had been near Harry was replaced by the moth that had distracted him, the moth that he thought had cost him the match. However, due to the pace of the game, no one seemed to notice the switch. In fact, Harry hadn't even noticed when it happened right in front of him. At least Harry could take satisfaction knowing that he hadn't lost his touch and that Malfoy did cheat. Too bad he couldn't tell anyone.

Quidditch didn't seem to matter much these days, anyway.

"Growing tired of my leg-locker curse, Potter?" Malfoy snapped at Harry, interrupting his thoughts.

Harry glared at him. "Never."

"Play nice, boys," Tonks said, her voice filled with warning.

Harry smirked. He didn't want to let Malfoy spend one more second thinking he was beating Harry at the duel. Harry cursed Malfoy using the _Incarcerous_ incantation. This worked especially well for Harry to use Legilimency on him. He couldn't move or speak, if Harry hit him correctly. It also seemed to piss Malfoy off because he couldn't stand meeting Harry's eyes for too long.

Harry began his search and was flooded with images to slice through. Draco on the Quidditch field. Beating on some first year with Crabbe and Goyle. Receiving a package in the Olwery, only to find the charred remains of a barn owl.

_Hold on_.

When Harry had seen Malfoy, Crabbe, and Boyle in the empty Owlery in the fall, it had struck him as a little odd. But now when Harry thought of it, it didn't make any sense. Draco had his own owl. Why would he ever want to use one of the school owls to deliver something? And why would it deliver a package to Draco in the Olwery?

The single image was associated with so many more. It was a though Harry could see an invisible string connecting Malfoy's memories. It was the closest he'd ever come to understanding the order of anyone's memories.

Michael Corner's worried expression crept inside of Harry's mind. "_It didn't work!_" he—or rather, Malfoy—spat. "_I thought you said it would keep the owls away._" Michael looked positively scared out of his wits.

"_I'm sorry, I forgot. Hagrid said you had to add a bit of Dried Scaag to the Ubreadit to keep the regular barn owls away."_

"_Stupid git. Do you realize what could have happened if _all_ the barn owls had been there?"_

"_I'm… I'm sorry, Draco."_

Harry suddenly felt pain spread from his knees to his ankles as the curse worked its magic. "Calm down, Mr. Malfoy," Tonks said. She got up from her desk and quickly relieved Harry from his painful position. Harry grimaced and got to his feet.

"I think that's enough for tonight, boys. Mr. Malfoy, you are dismissed. Mr. Potter, may I have a word with you?"

Malfoy gave Harry one last look of pure, cold-blooded hatred, then stormed out of the classroom. Harry knew that he couldn't' wait for these detentions to be over so that he could go back to his lessons with Snape. However, this was the first time Draco had ever left a duel against Harry feeling like he'd one. Harry felt utterly defeated.

Tonks went over to the classroom door and shut it. "Come into my office, please."

Harry followed her into the room, which was as messy as ever. Tonks used her wand and moved a stack of books off a chair for Harry to sit down in. He couldn't help noticing that all of the portraits in her classroom were gone. No one was going to overhear their conversation.

Tonks settled into her chair behind her desk and studied Harry closely. "Find anything interesting?"

Harry nodded solemnly. "Loads."

"Good." She took a deep breath. "Harry, we are quite certain that Draco is behind the empty Owlery incident. At first, we believed that he was merely trying to intercept all the correspondence between you and anyone in the order, thinking that you wouldn't use your own owl for Order business. We thought he was working for his father."

"Why would Lucius want to read my letters?" Harry asked. It seemed like a trivial thing to him.

"It appears that You-Know-Who assigned the task of baby-sitting you to Lucius, who in turn delegated it to Draco." Harry assumed that this information had been gathered by Snape. Perhaps it was this information that held him back from his tasks on Christmas Eve. Perhaps this tiny bit of information cost Eva a normal life. "But now, due to your insight," Tonks continued, "the Order believes that the Owlery mishap, including the death of a harmless barn owl, has nothing to do with intercepting your letters. The young Mr. Malfoy is planning something. We don't know what or when or why. That is why the Order has decided to give you your second assignment."

Immediately, Harry perked up. "Another assignment?"

Tonks nodded, her eyes glowing. "Straight from headquarters. We need you to find out what Malfoy is up to in the Owlery and we need to know as soon as possible."

"Why is the Order interested in what Draco is doing?"

"I can't tell you that, Harry. But I assure you that it's very important. You are the only one who has access to this kind of information. I fit weren't for your Legilimency training, we may have never even made the connection. I wish I could tell you more, but the truth is we don't know much."

"I understand," Harry replied. In fact, he'd like to find out what Malfoy was up to for his own reasons. "I'll get to the bottom of it."

"Good. And as soon as you do, report it to Dumbledore."

Harry nodded and got up from his seat, thinking that the meeting was over.

"Full moon's on Saturday, eh Harry?" Tonks said, a small smile breaking out on her lips. "The day after Valentine's Day, if I'm not mistaken?"

Harry froze on his way to the door. Did Tonks know about Eva coming to Hogwarts? She must—Remus probably told her. But did she know Eva spent her time with him?

"Perhaps you ought to plan something special. It's been a rough month."

He studied Tonks' expression, hoping to find a clue about what she meant. Was it a rough month because of Eva's condition or her job? But when Harry opened his mouth to ask her, Tonks raised a hand to dismiss him.

"Goodnight, Harry."


	46. The Investigation Continues

**CHAPTER FOURTY-SIX**

**The Investigation Continues**

Whatever Malfoy had done to the owls, Harry was sure Michael Corner had something to do with it. With what he discovered from his last duel with Draco, Harry knew that he had to make a visit to see Hagrid. And whatever concoction Michael gave Draco in return for the submissive potion, Hagrid knew about it.

Harry found some spare time in the afternoon before dinner to sneak down to Hagrid's Hut. Luckily, he wasn't teaching a class. The roof of the hut was piled with snow and there was smoke coming from the chimney. The old place actually looked quite cozy by the time Harry made it down to the grounds. His feet were soaked and his fingers were numb when he knocked on Hagrid's door.

"Who's there?"

"It's Harry, Hagrid," he called.

The door flew open, nearly knocking Harry backwards. Hagrid grabbed him and gave him a big, rough hug. All the breath was squeezed out of Harry, but at least he was warm.

"Come in, come on in outta ter cold." Hagrid pulled Harry inside and helped him take his jacket off. Fang pounced on Harry, trying to lick his face, until Hagrid pulled him off and threw him a bone from a platter on the table. "Sorry 'bout that, 'Arry. Bin so long since he's seen yeh. Since I seen yeh!"

Harry realized that Hagrid was getting a little emotional. It was true; he hadn't visited Hagrid since before winter break. "I'm sorry. I've been really busy with school and…other things."

The apology seemed to sober the giant up. "So I've heard. I swear, 'Arry, if yer parents could see yeh now, they'd be right proud. Studyin' er… yer studies, and doin' yer _assignments_…" He winked when he said the last part. "They couldn't have done a better job raisin' yeh themselves."

Harry felt his face grow red. "Thanks, Hagrid."

"Besides And where 'ave 'Ermione and Ron got to? Not fightin' with 'em, are yeh?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it's just hard when I can't tell them what's going on. We're sort of growing apart." The truth was that whenever Harry saw either of them, he felt an enormous pang of guilt because of what he was hiding from them. Lately, he'd been doing his best to avoid them. It was easier than constantly feeling guilty.

"That'll happen, that'll happen. But I'm sure things will work out," Hagrid replied. "Wan' a cup o' tea?"

Harry nodded and stayed silent as Hagrid found him a giant-sized teacup and saucer and filled it with some hot tea. "So what brings yeh down 'ere? Come to check on yer bike?"

He took a sip of tea, burning his mouth a little. He'd almost forgotten about Sirius's bike. "No. Actually, I wanted to ask you a question about the Owlery."

Hagrid drank some of his own tea and nodded. "Quite a scene we 'ad there in the fall. With the dead owl an' all. 'E was scorched up pretty badly."

"Do you know why?"

Hagrid shook his head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that bird ran into a dragon," he chuckled.

Harry's heart stopped for a moment. A dragon? Where had he heard about dragon deliveries before?

"Dumbledore was a tad concerned," Hagrid continued, "but after I cleaned the Owlery out and all them owls came back, 'e said not ter worry."

Harry took a deep breath. Now was the time to use what he had learned from his Legilimency with Draco. "When you cleaned the Owlery, did you happen to find any Ubreadit? With Dried Scaag?"

Hagrid's eyes lit up. "I did. How did yeh know, 'Arry?" Harry shrugged in response, and Hagrid seemed to understand that meant he couldn't tell him. "Do yeh know what it does?"

"It keeps owls away, doesn't it?"

"Very good!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Yer a quick study, 'Arry. That's somethin' I only teach ter my sixth-years. It's on the N.E.W.T.s. Tricky question if yeh ferget the Dried Scaag."

Suddenly, Harry realized why Draco had approached Michael for help in the first place. "Hagrid, is Michael Corner in your class this year?"

Hagrid nodded. "Sure is. Not the most clever bloke for bein' in Ravenclaw. Likes to hurry through everthin'," he muttered. "Yep, I did find a bit o' Ubreadit when I was cleain' the Owlery. Figured it was one of my sixth years foolin' around. Maybe even practicin' fer the exam."

But Harry knew different. It was Michael who'd given the Ubreadit to Malfoy, and Malfoy had put it in the Owlery. But why? Why would he want to get rid of all the owls? And apparently, the first attempt hadn't worked—one of the owls had been killed by whatever Malfoy had planned.

"Hagrid, can you think of any reason why someone would want the owlery to be empty?" Harry questioned.

Hagrid shrugged. "Not particularly. The Olwery's only used for outgoin' mail."

"So nothing ever arrives in the Olwery?"

"If an owl can't find the person who the mail is fer, it might bring it back to the Olwery. Or if a piece o' mail was sent directly to Hogwarts without a name. But that only happens every once in a while."

"I see," Harry replied.

He smiled, despite himself. Now he knew exactly what Draco was up to. He ordered some substance with help from Snape. Whatever it was, it could only be touched by dragon skin or hide. Only a dragon could deliver it. However, if a dragon arrived in the room full of owls, he would certainly try to eat them all. So Draco needed to get rid of the owls for the delivery. Things were starting to fall into place. But what the hell did Draco order?

It was Friday, Valentine's Day and the last day of his detentions, and Harry found himself face-to-face with a very pissed-off Draco Malfoy.

He was brutal with Harry. Malfoy had been interrupting his Legilmency so often that he barely had time to make out any of Draco's memories. At least he'd been able to confirm through one of Draco's flashbacks with Snape that he had ordered some kind of substance that could only be handled with Dragon's hide. In fact, only trained dragons could deliver it properly. So Harry assumed that Malfoy wanted the Owlery deserted to receive the substance. He didn't address it to himself in case the dragon was intercepted. He merely had the dragon bring it to Hogwarts. However, when he did receive the substance, one of the owls had been killed because of Michael's carelessness.

Without hesitation, Malfoy thrust his wand towards Harry, and shouted the conjunctivitis curse. He spat when he said it, his eyes red with fury. Harry felt the spell hit him, but he was already far away. His concentration was so intense that he felt removed from the situation, as though he were floating on the ceiling of the room and watching the duel from afar.

_Why are you so infuriated, Malfoy?_ Harry wondered.

In a flash, Harry was taken to a place that was now quite familiar to him: the Slytherin common room. He was staring at the hearth, the fire burning brightly. He could barely make out the image of Malfoy's mum in the flames, her nose upturned.

He—Malfoy—was seething with anger. It shook him to his core. Draco's voice was a harsh whisper, on the verge of shouting.

"_He betrayed _us_. He's tarnished the family name. Our blood is no longer pure. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"_

"_It means everything to me…"_

"_He does not belong there. He cannot just stumble back in through the door and take everything that is rightfully mine."_

"_It was his once…"_

"_But it is mine NOW!"_

He shouted the last part. He glanced around the common room to make sure that no one was there. He turned back to his mother, damning her for always being so fragile and pathetic when it came to his father. Suddenly, she let out a soft cry as she was pushed away from the fire. Her image was replaced with his father's pale face. Clearly enraged, Lucius's eyes were blazing even more brightly than the hearth.

"_Listen here, boy. You may think you have everything figured out, but I promise you, you are still just a miserable little wizard in training. Do not fool yourself into thinking that you're ready for the real thing…"_

"_And you listen to me, father. You've had your turn. You've failed. You're nothing but a washed-up old man hanging on to what little dignity he has left."_

There was a blinding pain in Harry's stomach as he doubled over and lost the image from Malfoy's mind. However, he heard Lucius's last shout of warning.

"_Watch your back, you foolish boy."_

And then Harry was on the floor, and when he tried to recover, Malfoy hit him again. "_Petrificus Totalus_." It was his current favorite spell to finish him off with. Tonks was forced to intervene and fix up Harry for round two.

So Draco's father had taken something from him—but what? And why was it so important? Whatever it was, it had Draco pissed off and in a particularly sour mood. Taking his anger out on Harry in the form of magical spells didn't seem to make matters any better.

For the second round, Harry used a new spell that Tonks had taught them in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The blinding caught Malfoy off-guard; Harry could tell he was surprised that he'd use it against him so quickly. Thanks to his meetings with D.A., Harry had managed to master the spell in a small amount of time. It would blind Malfoy for a good 30 seconds, even longer once Harry perfected it.

Harry took the second round, just to save face with Malfoy. However, he still needed to find out more about Malfoy. This was his last detention. He had to find out as much as he could.

He decided to concede round three to Malfoy. It was the first time that he was going to let Malfoy walk away with a winning match for the week. Harry would have to swallow his pride and take one for the good side.

Draco was tiring, and Harry was glad. If he wasn't so active with his wand, he would be able to read more of Malfoy's thoughts. He found that Draco's fury made him project all of his feelings and memories even more so than normal. Sometimes, it felt as though Malfoy was mentally shouting at Harry. Up until now, Harry had been too busy defending his physical self to do anything about it. But now that he was tired from his own rage, perhaps he wouldn't be quite so quick.

Harry could see and feel so much about Draco's terrible relationship with his father. It was not one of camaraderie or unity under the Dark Lord's name. It was a competition of power and vengeance. Draco would do anything to get his father out of the way. He wanted to be more powerful. More hateful. More evil. He wanted the name Malfoy feared as much as Voldemort.

Tonks said they'd had enough of a break, and Draco sprang back into action. However, he was more subdued. Harry took the opportunity to open his mind to Malfoy's projections.

"_I will be a Death Eater. No matter what it takes."_

Draco was still talking to his father through the heart in the Slytherin common room. Harry got the sense that this memory was fresh, perhaps even from today.

"_You may have taken away my slave, but I have something else the Dark Lord wants."_

"_My money and power may have spoiled you rotten, Draco, but you cannot buy your way into the inner circle. There is nothing you could possibly offer him that he doesn't already have in me."_

Draco merely smiled. An arrogant, thin-lipped smile.

"_We'll just see about that, won't we father?"_

Suddenly, the Draco of the present physically poked Harry with his want. "_Incendio!_"

Harry cried out in agony as pain erupted on his chest. He was vaguely aware of the sound of sizzling and the smell of burnt flesh as the pain spread. He had been so locked into Draco's memory that he hadn't realized how close he was.

_That will teach you to make eyes at me, Potter_.

Harry still had a strong enough connection to understand Malfoy's thoughts. Tonks gasped and got up from her desk and rushed to Harry's side. She had her wanted out in a flash and quickly muttered the counter-charm to douse the flame on Harry's clothes.

She was furious. "Mr. Malfoy!" she boomed. "Do you know how dangerous that was!" Malfoy merely grinned in response. "I want you out of here this instant! You're lucky I don't give you another week's worth!"

Draco snickered and quickly left the room. Tonks was fussing over Harry's shirt, which actually appeared to be sticking to part of his skin. Harry winced when she pulled it away, a bit of his flesh still sticking to the cloth.

"Ooh, that was rotten," Tonks said. "I'm afraid you may have to pay a visit to Madam Pomfrey, Harry."

"No way." Harry shook his head defiantly. "I've got to go see Dumbledore." And the sooner he got done talking to Dumbledore about this last detention, the sooner the headmaster would take him to see Eva. He had big plans for tonight. Plus, he already had his bag packed with the Marauder's Map and his father's invisibility cloak. He didn't want to make another trip up to Gryffindor Tower. "Can't you do something?"

Tonks sighed. "I'm afraid it's been a while since I've done any magical first aid—but I can try." She hesitated a moment, thinking of a spell. Then she pointed her wand where Harry was burned and muttered a charm.

Almost immediately, the burning sensation around Harry's chest eased. His skin was still a bit red and sore, but it felt cool and soothing. "Thanks," Harry said. "Er… Got any ideas for the shirt?" The entire front of his shirt was scorched and quite crispy.

Tonks rummaged around in a nearby open trunk and pulled out a navy blue button-down. Harry was quite sure he recognized it as Remus's. "Here, take this. But I want it back." She tossed it to him, blushing. Harry tried to hide his smile. "Now, get a move on. I know you must be in a hurry. And Happy Valentine's Day."

Harry grinned. "Happy Valentine's Day, Professor."

He quickly left Tonks's office and changed his shirt in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He threw away his old one and was surprised to find that Remus's wasn't too big on him. In fact, Harry thought his shoulders broadened it out quite nicely. However, he didn't have time to dwell on it. He sprinted out of the classroom and straight to Dumbledore's office.

"Ton-Tongue Toffee!" he cried hoarsely, a bit out of breath. The stone gargoyle twisted to reveal a staircase, and it seemed to take forever for Harry to reach the headmaster's office.

"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore said, gesturing for him to join him in the back room. It only took a few strides for Harry to reach Dumbledore. He quickly went inside and sat down without being asked to.

"In a hurry, are you?" Dumbledore questioned, his eyes twinkling.

"Sorry sir," Harry replied sheepishly.

Dumbledore smiled. "No need to apologize. We all have been in love once." His eyes seemed far away for a moment. Then he took his seat at the desk. "So what can you tell me?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Malfoy hates his father. They got into some kind of fight—I'm not sure when, but I almost can guarantee it was today or yesterday. Lucius took something back from Draco. I think he called it a slave, but I'm not sure what it is at all. Draco was furious about it. He was going to use it as a bargaining chip to join the Death Eaters."

"And now he has nothing?"

"He's got something. He said he did. But I don't know what that is either." All Harry seemed to find out from Draco was more questions. He thought back to Draco's memory. "And he said something else about Lucius. Something odd."

"What was it?" Dumbledore pressed.

Harry hesitated. "He said that Lucius had tarnished the family name. Knowing Lucius, he would do anything to make sure that the Malfoys were held in the highest respects of any wizarding family. But Draco said that he'd done something to hurt their reputation. And his mother agreed, but said that Lucius had a right to reclaim what was once his."

"I see." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Did you find out what Mr. Malfoy ordered that could only be delivered by dragon?" Harry had told him his hypothesis about the empty Owlery and his visit to Hagrid's the night before.

Harry shook his head. "No. But I did manage to confirm that it was Snape who told him how to order it. Maybe you should ask _him_," Harry spat.

"Indeed, I will," Dumbledore replied.

This was the point in the conversation where Harry would ask Dumbledore over and over again why he trusted Snape. And each time he would say that it was between him and Professor Snape and that it was none of Harry's business. Instead, Harry remained silent. Dumbledore seemed to see this as a sign of maturity.

"Even though your detentions with Mr. Malfoy have come to a close, I want to ask you to continue your assignment with him, Harry. _By any means possible_."

Harry stared at the headmaster. He didn't need him to elaborate to know what Dumbledore meant. However, he didn't think he could go on lying to his friends. If anything, he needed their help. "Professor, please, I know that this all needs to be very secretive, but trying to do all of this alone is quite difficult."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley have been left in the dark for long enough now. You may tell them."

Harry felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off his shoulders. All he'd been doing since Christmas was keeping secrets from his closest friends. Now everything would come out in the open. "Everything?" Harry questioned, just to be sure.

"Everything you wish to tell them," he said, smiling. He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. "I suppose we ought to head down to meet them. Are you ready?" He rose from his seat.

Harry felt like he'd been waiting for years for tonight. If Dumbledore knew that he'd spent the night with Eva last month, he didn't seem to disapprove. In fact, Harry felt like he was down right encouraging their time together. "Wait, Professor. I have one more question."

"Yes?"

Harry hesitated. Maybe Dumbledore hadn't realized how wonderful he'd been to Harry and Eva. If he pointed it out, would Dumbledore take his kindness away? "Why… Why are you letting us… be together?" he asked quietly. "It's breaking school rules."

"If there's one thing I've learned from you Harry, it's that some rules were made to be broken." He grinned. "Also, I know how happy she makes you. How happy you make each other. When you find happiness like that, you've got to hang onto it for as long as possible."

Harry smiled, but he couldn't help thinking that Dumbledore was sounding quite ominous. Did this have anything to do with the blonde woman he'd uncovered in Dumbledore's memories?

"Come, Harry. We don't want to keep them waiting."


	47. The Room of Enchantment

**CHAPTER FOURTY-SEVEN**

**The Room of Enchantment**

Harry was nervous. But it was the good kind of nervous. He knew that no matter what happened, he'd be spending the night with Eva. However, he suddenly wished he had more time to prepare for tonight. Maybe he should have brought her flowers from the greenhouse or some chocolates from Honeydukes. He felt odd meeting her empty-handed.

Dumbledore led him down the stairs and through the trapdoor to the kitchen. Dobby was quick to meet him and looking somewhat on the normal side in a pink turtleneck. However, he didn't realize that he was supposed to roll the neck down and instead wore it up high so that the sweater stuck to the bottom of his chin.

"Sirs!" Dobby squeaked. "Just in time! Mr. Lupin and Miss Eva has just arrived, sirs!"

"Thank you, Dobby," Dumbledore said. He followed the house-elf into the main part of the kitchen, past the deserted hearths and to the other side. Harry was at his heels, feeling nervous.

The truth was that he didn't come up with his brilliant plan until earlier that day when he was daydreaming in Potions class. He had just planned to sneak her into his dormitory again, which didn't seem like a very romantic place to spend Valentine's Day. But where else could he be with her in secret?

And then it came to him: the Room of Requirement. Not only was it closer to the kitchens than Gryffindor Tower, but it was more private. There was less chance of the two of them getting caught together. In fact, if Harry thought hard enough while pacing back and forth along the seventh floor corridor, he could come up with all sorts of items he required for his big night with Eva.

His big night. Was it really happening? Even though they had never spoken of consummating their relationship, Harry had picked up a few hints from Eva along the way. She was, after all, nearly two years older than him. Maybe she expected it from him. It was something two people did when they were in love.

But whatever unfolded in the night to come, Harry wanted to make it special. He wanted it to be unforgettable.

He found himself blushing when Dobby paused at a hidden stone door. Using some unseen magic, he merely waved his hand in the air and the heavy door opened. A few other house-elves, presumably standing guard, quickly filed out of the room. Dobby gestured for Dumbledore and Harry to enter.

Harry gasped when he saw her. She was wearing a black top that was cut to fall just off her shoulders, exposing bare flesh and her collarbones and the scar from the attack. Her skirt was made of a dark red material, covered with a thin layer of black lace. Her face was a bit paler than usual, but her cheeks had more red in them. Her eyes were painted a smoky gray, her lips a deep red to match her skirt. Her dark hair was pulled back in a high ponytail that swung from shoulder to shoulder when she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She was wearing a pointy pair of black heels. Harry couldn't hide his smile—he could tell she was uncomfortable in them.

"Miss Finnegan, you look marvelous," Dumbledore greeted. He reached for her hand and kissed it. "I think you've left poor Harry speechless."

Harry did find that he was at a loss for words. Both Remus and the headmaster were staring at him intently to see his response. Eva, however, was sheepishly studying the floor.

"Er… Well… I…"

"I think he's just proven your point," Remus laughed. He shook Dumbledore's hand. "Thanks for letting us come here, Albus. We don't know what we'd do without you." He spoke for Eva because it appeared that she, too, was at a loss for words.

"It's no trouble," Dumbledore replied. "Just be back here by noon tomorrow morning." He glanced over at Harry. "And not a minute after."

Harry found his voice. "Yes sir."

Dumbledore nodded to each of them, and then turned to leave the hidden room. "I'm afraid must get back to my own Valentine's celebration. Stay out of trouble," he warned with a twinkle in his eye as he disappeared back into the main room of the kitchen.

"And I'd better go and start my celebration," Remus announced, adjusting his tie. Harry realized that he was dressed up too, and was carrying a small box of some sort beneath his coat. Jewelry, perhaps?

_Oh god, I should have brought her something_, Harry thought.

"I say, Harry," Remus said, examining him closely, "is that _my _shirt?"

"Oh… er, yes, it is." His face grew even redder as he realized how ridiculous he must look coming to meet Eva, who looked positively gorgeous, in a navy blue shirt and black pants that didn't match.

"What are you doing in my shirt?" Remus questioned. "Never mind. I don't have time for questions." He quickly made his way over to the door. "Now, you two know the drill. Don't let anyone see you from now until noon and you'll be just fine. And I know that tonight is very special… Valentine's night and everything… but _behave_."

Harry thought he was quite serious when he stated the last part, but then he smiled, and left the room taking long strides and whistling an old love song. And there Harry was, alone, with the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life. And she was all his.

For some reason, he couldn't seem to look her in the eyes. Instead, he was studying her body. The length of the skirt ended just above her knees, and curved in all the right places. The blouse left part of her abdomen exposed when she nervously clasped her hands behind her back, thrusting her upper body forward and exposing even more of her flesh for Harry to see.

"You… You look beautiful," Harry breathed. He took a step towards her, afraid that if he got to close she might shatter—or worse, vanish.

"Thanks. So do you," Eva replied. "I mean, y-you look handsome."

Harry laughed, and it seemed to put her at ease. So she was just as nervous as he was. Eva was carrying a bag that Harry didn't notice before. She rifled through it and pulled out a small box wrapped in brown packaging. "I brought you something…"

"I didn't get you anything," Harry interrupted quickly, feeling stupid.

"It's not from me. It's from Fred and George." Eva handed him the package, still not meeting his eyes. "They said not to use them all in one night," she said with a shrug.

Harry took it from her and carefully unwrapped it. When he saw what the box was, he gasped and quickly shoved it inside his pants pocket.

"What is it?" Eva questioned.

"Er… Nothing. Just… Just a gag from the joke shop."

_Condoms. It was condoms!_

Harry couldn't have felt any more embarrassed at that point. He knew it was just a horrible joke, but it still made him uneasy. How could they do this to him? And if the night continued on this embarrassing path he couldn't see it leading into the direction he hoped it would. He wanted her, didn't he? Why were things so awkward?

"Why is this so bloody uncomfortable?" Eva said suddenly, mirroring his thoughts. "Is it all because of this Valentine's Day rubbish?"

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Must be."

"Well, let's just forget that it's Valentine's Day and forget that I'm wearing far too much makeup and pretend it's some other day of the year." She took a step forward so that she was standing directly in front of Harry, then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her, kissing him. Harry's hands circled her waist as his lips pressed against her own.

When they separated, Eva smiled brightly at him. "I've been waiting a whole month to do that again."

"Me too." Harry kept one arm around her waist. That action alone seemed to wake him up inside. Tonight was for Eva. She was all that mattered. Whether they spent the night in each other's arms or in the throws of passion, he didn't care. It was time to put his brilliant plan into action. "Ready to go up?"

She nodded. Harry led her through the main kitchen and to the stairwell that was on the other side of the wall with the portrait of the fruit. He took the invisibility cloak and map out of his bag. He spoke the incantation to activate the Marauder's Map and studied it. The corridor was deserted at the moment, but they'd have to be careful. Curfew wasn't for another ten minutes.

Harry threw the invisibility cloak over both of them. "_Lumos_!" he hissed. A light appeared at the tip of his wand. He used it to take one last glance at the map, then opened the portrait door. "Be careful," he whispered to Eva, "and stay close."

The lights in the hallway were enough for Harry to see where he was going. He quickly snuffed out his wand and led Eva over to the stairs. He slipped his wand into his pocket and pulled out the map again, making sure they weren't going to run into anyone. As they climbed their way to the seventh floor, a third-year from Ravenclaw came running down the stairs. Eva gasped. Harry pulled her to the rail for safety, but the student passed without even so much as a second glance.

By the time they made it from the kitchen to the seventh floor, they were both out of breath. Eva had clasped onto Harry's hand at some point during their journey, and he wasn't about to let go. Instead, he pulled her down the corridor, turned around, and paced the other way.

"Are you mad?" Eva whispered. "Harry, what are you doing?"

"You'll see," Harry replied with a grin. There was a stream of ideas running through his head. Flowers. Tulips. No, roses. Didn't they always have a trail of rose petals on the bed on television? And they would need a bed, for sure. But if Harry opened the door to the room and there was _only_ a bed inside, what kind of romantic plan was that? It might even offend Eva. And what about something to eat? He was rather hungry.

But would the room really change to accommodate Harry? He hoped so. Really, he just needed a place for the two of them to spend the night. It didn't need to be romantic. Could the room tell the difference between wants and needs? Harry couldn't be sure.

He checked his watch. The door had better appear soon or else they'd be caught in the dark. Curfew was only moments away.

Harry heard Eva gasp. She tugged on his hand and pointed to a door. "That door… It just came out of nowhere. What is it?"

Harry grinned. "It's our room." He gave one last glance in either direction, then quietly opened the door and pulled Eva inside, not quite sure what to expect.

When he yanked the door shut behind them, they were engrossed in total darkness. For a moment, Harry thought that maybe the room had it wrong, and they only required a pitch-black closet. However, the room slowly started getting lighter. Suddenly, there was a hearth with a fire glowing inside of it, growing brighter by the second. On the opposite end of the room, a candle wick ignited and the room was filled with the scent of something sweet. Another candle was lit, and there was a quiet hissing noise as a line of votives lit up in succession around the entire room.

Even Harry felt his breath catch in his throat as he studied the room surrounding him. There was a table for two on one side of the room, with a platter in the center of the table, covered by a metallic dome. The china was shining in the candlelight, along with the rings around the cloth napkins on either side of the table. On the opposite end of the room, in front of the fire, there was a red package tied up with a glittering bow. Harry had no idea what was inside of it, which made him somewhat nervous. It was too large to be something simple like jewelry.

And in the center of the room, pushed against the furthest wall, was a king-sized bed. A cream-colored velvet comforter was draped over it. There were a half of a dozen giant pillows at the head of the bed, making it look quite comfortable and inviting.

There was no way Harry thought of everything in this room. He knew there had to be some other kind of magic at work.

Coming to his senses, Harry quickly slipped out of the invisibility cloak and unveiled Eva. She looked completely surprised.

"This… This is amazing," Eva stammered. "Did you… plan this just for me?"

"Kind of," Harry replied. Which was the truth.

"This is absolutely enchanting. Harry, I don't know what to say."

"Say you're hungry." Harry grinned at her. He took her by both hands and led her to the table. He pulled out her chair and gestured for her to sit down. Eva sat gingerly, still looking around the room in awe. Harry took the ring off of her napkin and unfolded it in her lap, then pushed her chair in towards the table.

"I can't believe you did this for me," Eva continued. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." Harry slipped into the chair across from her and put his napkin in his lap as well. "But I don't know if you'll be thanking me once you see what we're having." It would be a surprise for him as well. Harry leaned across the circular table and carefully pulled the silver dome off the center platter. Beneath it was a huge stack of steaming Belgian waffles, piled high with whipped cream and strawberries. Harry stared at the plate, confused. Was this really his idea of a gourmet meal?

"How did you know?" Eva asked incredulously.

"Know what?"

"Waffles are my favorite food," she replied. "I could eat them for every meal."

"Lucky guess," Harry said with a wink. This was working out much better than he ever could have planned. "There's a lot of them. Hope you're hungry."

"I actually am," Eva said with a smile. "I rushed to the Burrow after work, and I only had time to change before coming here." She helped herself to one of the fluffy waffles and then put one on Harry's plate. "You're scoring major points tonight, Harry. This is the nicest thing anyone's done for me," she said quietly.

Harry scooted his chair closer to her, and with a great deal of courage, whispered in her ear. "I intend to make it a night we'll both remember."

Eva looked bashfully down at her plate. Harry thought for one horrifying moment that he had ruined everything with such a line. However, Eva's hand moved from the tabletop to Harry's lap, and she gently stroked the inside of his thigh with her fingertips. "I'd like that."

After a dinner filled with awkward silences and more than a few laughs, Harry was feeling much better about the night to come. He was left wondering if there was something in the syrup that had made him feel more relaxed and warm. He'd unbuttoned the top of Remus's shirt long ago and was tempted to remove it completely. Eva even had more color in her cheeks as Harry brought her over to the fireplace. They both sat down on the soft carpeting that was in front of the hearth.

"I thought you said you didn't get me anything," Eva said, her eyes sparkling in the firelight.

Harry grinned. "Must have slipped my mind." He was hoping that it wasn't a gift like the one he received from the twins, which would be useful, yet most definitely give the wrong impression. "Go on, open it." He pushed the package toward her.

It was wrapped in brilliant red paper, but Eva took no notice, and ripped into it quite recklessly. She seemed to enjoy tearing away at the package. She opened the box top to reveal a silver scarf made of fine silk. The material was thick, but nearly translucent. The edges were embroidered with a short length of fringe. "Harry, it's gorgeous," she gushed, pressing the material against her cheek. "It's so soft."

She took one end and draped it around Harry's bare neck and pulled him close for a deep, sensual kiss. He could taste sweet strawberries and peppermint tea on her lips as his hands caressed her entire body. No sooner had he found the hem of her shirt to lift it over her head when he was suddenly pushed backwards onto the rug with Eva straddling him. The scarf was long forgotten as she pulled her blouse over her head, revealing her naked breasts. She leaned over and kissed his neck, trailing down to his chest as her hands went to work on unbuttoning his shirt.

Harry practically tore at the buttons himself as he lay flat on his back. The rational part of him wanted to slow down, to be gentle, to really make the moment special. However, raw physical attraction was overpowering his senses as he gazed into Eva's eyes and let his hands travel to her bottom where he found her skirt's zipper.

_I'm ready_.

Harry jumped. Eva didn't seem to notice. She was concentrating so intently on his eyes that her entire surroundings were oblivious. That thought—had it come from her?

_I love you, Harry_.

And because he couldn't help himself, he answered her. "I love you too."

Eva looked a little alarmed, but before she could give it another thought he had slipped her skirt past her knees. In one fluid motion, Harry flipped Eva over so that he could stand up and quickly pulled her to her feet. He took her hand and led her over to the bed, only footsteps away. She sat at the edge, her naked skin glowing, as Harry quickly undid his belt buckle and his black pants slid to the hardwood floor with a metallic clunk.

Eva reached out and pulled Harry closer. Her soft hands touched the tender flesh on his chest. He winced, but the pain only pushed him forward into her. He laid her back on the bed, not bothering to turn down the covers, and kissed her feverishly. His kisses moved from her lips to her neck at the beginning of her scar, then down to her breasts. He could hear her heart beating swiftly as his tongue found her nipple. She gasped and writhed at the sensation. Harry lingered at her breasts as his hands caressed their way further down her body. He hooked his thumbs inside the waistband of her panties and gently pulled them down her thighs, past her knees, and finally slipped them off her body, letting them fall wherever they happened to land.

He took a moment to study her now that she was completely undressed. Her cheeks were red and so was her skin where Harry's lips had touched her. Her breasts heaved at every breath with the moon guide hanging on the chain between them. She was more than ready for him.

Harry thought he would burst as he nearly ripped his boxer shorts from his own body. He could feel the warmth from the fireplace on his bare back as he moved closer to her hips, anxious to give Eva all the pleasure she deserved.

Suddenly, she sat up and shook her head. "You've done enough already," she whispered, smiling. She put her hands on Harry's shoulders and pushed him back down onto the velvety bed. The light from the hearth danced wildly in her blue eyes as she kissed him deeply, leaving him breathless as she went further down on his body, leaving her own trail of kisses.

Harry moaned as her lips found what they were looking for. He was in complete ecstasy from Eva's actions. He watched as she moved on him and had to close his eyes because the sight of her was enough to finish him off. What he felt was overwhelming enough.

Eva seemed to sense this. She backed off and sat up, then got on her knees on either side of Harry's thighs. She took a deep breath and guided herself until she was on top of him, then slowly lowered her body onto his. Her eyes glazed over in rapture as she slowly moved back and forth.

Harry placed a palm on either side of her hips and helped to guide her motions. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. Her breasts shifted and her dark curls bounced with every movement. Her lips curved into a slight "O" as she moaned incoherently. Harry arched his back to meet her at every stroke. He lifted a hand up to her chest, cupping one breast. This threw her over the edge and she tightened around him, screaming his name. Harry couldn't hold back any longer and succumbed to his passion. He exploded inside of her and Eva called out for him again, writhing in pleasure.

Eva collapsed on top of him, her chest heaving. She was still breathless as she whispered his name and closed her eyes. Harry couldn't help but grin as he gently rubbed her back, letting his hand trail downwards to small of her back. He gently kissed her forehead and brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her face.

"I love you, Eva."

(A/N: I know, I know. Again, Harry is all virginal so he shouldn't be a master in the bedroom. But whatever. It's my story. P Oh, and even though I didn't put it in there, they used protection. Safe sex everyone!)


	48. Afterglow

**CHAPTER FOURTY-EIGHT**

**Afterglow**

Harry Potter had never known that life could be so beautiful.

He'd always been a child of misfortune. Orphaned at an early age and sent to live with loathsome relatives. Being hunted by the most feared wizard in the world. Witnessing the gruesome death of a classmate. Mourning over the loss of his godfather.

All of these events had made him grow up a little faster. However, he still felt a little like a child. His love for Eva made him feel young.

At some point they had maneuvered beneath the warm blankets on the bed. Eva lay next to him, gazing up at the ceiling. It had magically transformed into the night sky, complete with the moon and some constellations. Every once in a while, a shooting star would fly across the sky and Eva would gaze over at him, seeing if he was still awake and if he was the one causing all of the magic.

He knew that she thought he was doing everything because ever since they had made love it was as if there was an invisible connection between their minds. Every time he looked in her eyes he could tell what she was thinking.

He didn't know how useful his Legilimency skills could be. He did more than catch a bit of her thoughts every once in a while; he could sense everything about her. He could feel how nervous she was and when he was doing something that hurt her. He could sense where she wanted to be touched and when she wanted more. And there were times when she called his name and he couldn't be sure whether it was in his head or out loud. He never knew he could feel so close to someone.

Eva rolled onto her side and wrapped her arms around Harry's waist. He reached down and stroked her hair, enjoying the sensation of her curls against his bare skin. She looked up at him, her blueeyes glowing. "This is perfect," she whispered.

Harry grinned and pulled her arms so that she slid up to his eye level. He didn't want to admit it, but she seemed to be growing weaker by the minute. The full moon was approaching. Even as he thought it, she pointed up to the moon on their ceiling.

"It's full," she said quietly. "That's one thing I've missed. I never get to see it anymore."

Harry kissed her forehead. "Sometimes at night, when I check up on you," he tugged gently at the Moon Guide around her neck, "you're looking out the window at the stars. Even that first night when I visited you in Hogsmeade, you were staring outside."

"Aye. I guess it just gives me some time to reflect. I've lived in many different places in my life, but the stars never seem to change. They always feel like home." She snuggled closer to him, her eyelids fluttering shut. "I've got to tell you, before I fall asleep."

"Tell me what?" Harry questioned, tracing the line of her scar from her neck all the way down to her abdomen with his fingertips. She shivered in delight, but didn't open her eyes.

"About my job at the Ministry. I promised I would tell you tonight." She sighed and sleepily pulled herself up to a sitting position. She grabbed the quilt from the foot of the bed and draped it around her shoulders, covering her bare skin. "And actually, I need your help."

Harry had nearly forgotten about her promise. He was dying to know what it was that she did. Spending late hours researching at the Ministry, secret meetings with Charlie Weasley, jumping through Arthur's hoops. It all added up to a mystery.

He also sat up, covering himself with the sheet. "What is it? And why is it such a secret?"

"And it's got to remain secret," Eva said suddenly. "Just between you and me. You can't tell Ron or Hermione or Ginny. I know you hate keeping secrets, but it's very important. Or at least, it will be if my mission next week succeeds." She chewed on her lower lip. "If not, then I'm sacked and you can go blabbing it to anyone."

"You won't get sacked," Harry said reassuringly. "Go on. Tell me."

She hesitated. "At first, my job at the Ministry was really just to be an assistant to Arthur. My duties were mostly secretarial, until I showed that I had adjusted well to my circumstances."

"Circumstances?" he questioned.

"Dealing with my knowledge of the wizarding world. Apparently, the Ministry hasn't had a good track record dealing with Muggles who are aware of the wizarding world. They try to adapt to a new world view, one that contains both the Muggle world and the wizarding world, and sometimes they crack. There are those, like Seamus's father and your aunt and uncle, who choose to ignore the magical world. Then there are some, like me, who take it right in stride.

"So after they realized that I was all right with my new surroundings and my new job, I was assigned other duties. I went out with Arthur on emergencies. When Muggles had been attacked by their own teapots or suddenly found themselves shrinking after tasting a bit of an unmarked candy, I was there to counsel them until the Obliviators arrived.

"After I had been on a few raids, these experiences got me thinking about what would happen if there were more like me—Muggles who had been touched by the magical world, but choose to be a part of it instead of ignore it. There have to be others. So after many dreadful meetings with Fudge, I was able to start my research on what would happen if there was a kind of "Magical Intervention" of sorts."

"Hold on." Harry held up his hands to stop her from continuing. "You mean to tell me that you convinced Fudge that you should go around telling people about the wizarding world? That's breaking the law!" Professor Avis even had an entire unit set aside as to why Muggles shouldn't know about the wizarding world.

"Not exactly. There are already thousands of Muggles out there who know that some sort of magic exists. There are things that are unexplainable. These are the Muggles that I would reach out to. And I wouldn't go around telling everyone, only a select few who already have some knowledge that the world isn't quite exactly as it seems."

"But why? What's the point of telling Muggles?"

"So that we can help." She scooted closer to him on the bed. She was worked up; Harry could sense it.

"Help with what?"

"The battle to come, of course!" she exclaimed, excited. "You even said in your article that everyone needed to prepare their troops!"

Harry felt sick to his stomach. She was using his own words against him. "But Eva, an army of witches and wizards is one thing, but Muggles…"

"You've already expressed your opinion on that subject," she said crossly. "You may think that we're worthless against the Dark Lord and his minions. I intend to prove you wrong." She met his eyes and there was fire in them. "Some have said that you are too young to aid in battle, but I know different. I know that you are one of the greatest wizards in the world, Harry. And you may say that we Muggles have no arsenal to match the dark magic that we'll be up against, but I know better. I know that even without a wand in our hands we can be some of the bravest warriors."

"I never doubted your bravery," Harry shot back. No, he knew how brave she was. It was that quality she possessed that made her so attractive, and also made him worry the most. A warrior? This pale, small Irish girl? He wished he could keep her safe, locked away until the war was over.

"Then don't doubt my ideals," Eva said. She took his hands into hers and gripped them tightly. "I know it all sounds crazy at first. But things will fall into place. You'll see, Harry."

Harry sighed. He was afraid this wouldn't be the last time they had this argument. "And how many Muggles have you converted, exactly?"

"That's the problem, you see. I don't have any, just yet. And that's why I need your help."

"It's one thing to ask me to believe in you, Eva, but to actually help you break the law…?"

"It's not breaking the law!" Eva cried. "Arthur's made sure that I have all of the proper documentation and permissions. Hell, I've got everything but Fudge's personal blessing to start the process."

"Then what do you need me for?"

Eva sighed. "I'm afraid the Muggle won't believe me. He'll think I'm a raving lunatic. Here I am, confessing about a secret magical world, yet I have no proof."

"And I'm your proof?"

"Exactly." She nodded. "If things go well, you may even have to perform some small spell to make him believe."

"I can't do magic outside of Hogwarts."

"You've got permission," Eva replied. "Besides, it's not as though you haven't before."

"How would you know?" Harry asked. He thought he'd kept the letters from using the Patronus charm on Christmas Eve well hidden at the Burrow.

Harry could tell she felt guilty about something. "Harry, I actually know a lot. At the Ministry, I'm afraid I had access to a lot of files that are otherwise hidden from Muggle eyes. After that first night when you visited me in Hogsmeade, I did some checking up on you."

"You mean you snooped around?" He didn't know if he was more alarmed due to her spying or the fact that the Ministry had files on him.

"I didn't mean to read a lot, just the basics. I really didn't want to poke my nose into places it didn't belong, but you must admit that you've got quite an interesting history. I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry felt anger rising inside of him when Eva suddenly leaned over and hugged him. He could feel her bare chest against his own and felt something else rising. "I beg you, Harry. Please forgive me," she whispered.

And when she pleaded like that, how could he refuse? "It's all right. I imagine I would have done the same."

She pulled away from him, and he was sorry to lose her warmth. "And I don't want you to think that my job is just a crazy crusade to tell Muggles about the wizarding world. I've also been very involved in racial tolerance. I've been setting up some very good deals lately about integrating many things from the Muggle world into the wizarding world."

"What do you mean?"

"For example, the books that Professor Avis uses in her Muggle Studies classes. I arranged a few shipments to come from the Salem Witches Institute in the United States. That way, your classmates can be exposed to the culture of a Muggle through fiction and other works."

"That's why you were so interested in the new Muggle section in Flourish and Blotts," Harry realized.

"I was more than interested, Harry. I was the one who put it together. Charlie Weasley had managed to convince Gringotts to pay for half of the shipment, and all the Ministry had to do was match the other half. Flourish and Blotts was a tough sell, but it seems to have made quite a profit. You see, it's not just a matter of preparing a Muggle for the wizarding world, but also preparing the wizarding world for a Muggle."

"This is amazing," Harry said incredulously. "I can't believe you've been doing this the whole time."

"Aye, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. It's a very confidential project. If I don't produce a Muggle believer for Fudge within the next week, the whole thing is going to be scrapped, along with my position at the Ministry."

"Why so soon?"

"Fudge wants results. And I'm afraid that I've been dragging my feet a bit. The whole thing sounds good in theory, but when I actually put it into practice I may come to find out that all my work has been for nothing." She sighed and plopped backwards on the bed with her head propped up against one of the big, fluffy pillows. "So will you help me?"

"Of course," Harry replied, joining her. Her eyes were already closed. Exhaustion was overpowering her. He turned on his side so that he could wrap his arms around her and pull her close to him. He, too, closed his eyes, taking in the smell of her hair and imagining the night they had spent together.

"Good, it's settled. Next week, you'll come with me to meet him, and together, we'll tell David about the wizarding world."

"_David_?" Harry exclaimed. His eyes flew open. Eva, however, remained perfectly still in his arms. "David, who you used to work with, your old friend David?"

"One in the same," she replied, yawning.

Harry felt that familiar pang of jealousy in the pit of his stomach, but tried to ignore it. "Are you sure he's the right person to tell?"

"We'll find out next week, I guess." She rolled over so that she faced Harry, and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. "Goodnight, Harry. I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispered. He gave her a kiss on the forehead as the stars on the ceiling about them snuffed out, one-by-one, until he was immersed in total darkness.

She was in his arms tonight and in his heart always, and that was what mattered.

There was a certain bounce in Harry's step as he climbed the stairs to the common room and told the Fat Lady the password to enter. Despite the fact that it was difficult to say goodbye to Eva after such an amazing night, he was happy. Hopeful, even. He didn't have to spend another night in detention with Draco. He had just made love to Eva and he knew she was safe and sound with Remus for the full moon in a few hours. Plus, he finally got to tell Ron and Hermione about everything that had been going on. He wouldn't have to keep any more secrets about his Legilimency training from them.

He could feel the weight being lifted off his shoulders already.

When he entered the common room, Ron and Hermione weren't together. Hermione was over in an oversized chair, reading a book, and Ron was playing a game of exploding snap with Neville and Dean. He needed to find a way to get the two of them alone. He decided to go up to the dormitory and unpack his things, then come up with some excuse to pull them both away from his housemates.

He had just changed into a fresh set of clothes when Ron burst through the dormitory door. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded. "When you didn't come back last night, I thought for sure you'd been called out for a meeting with the Order. Or maybe Malfoy got the better of you in a duel."

"Nearly," Harry replied with a grin. He took his glasses off and cleaned them with his shirt, stalling. What could he say about where he'd been? He finally had permission to tell Ron and Hermione everything—but did he really want to?

"There's something different," Ron said, his eyes narrowing. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You look… happy."

"So?" He shrugged.

"You're never happy, Harry." Ron shook his head. "What's going on? Where were you last night?"

Harry hesitated. He glanced around at all the beds to make sure that he and Ron were alone. "I spent last night with Eva."

"Excellent. She's back in Hogsmeade?" Ron questioned.

He shook his head. "It's hard to explain. She and Remus have been coming here for their transformations each full moon. Dumbledore lets us be together."

"Be together… all night?"

"I'm not quite sure he knows about the all night part."

Ron stared at Harry with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "And when you say you spent last night with her, what do you mean, exactly?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. "I mean that the two of us were together… all night."

"Where?"

"The Room of Requirement."

Ron paused for a moment, thinking. "Yesterday was Valentine's Day." He studied Harry suspiciously. "Did you… sleep together?"

Harry nodded.

"Did you… do anything?"

He nodded again.

"Oy, Harry!" Ron punched him playfully on the shoulder. "How come you didn't tell me all of this before? I mean, there already was a full moon in January. Did you sleep with her then, too?"

"No. I mean, we slept in the same bed. But we didn't do anything. I mean, we did do some things. But not _everything_." He could feel himself blushing. He had just spilled his guts about his entire sex life to Ron.

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know if I'm more angry that that you and Eva are actually together or that you didn't bloody tell me."

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized. "I wanted to tell you, believe me. But I wasn't allowed to—until now. And I've got some things that I need to tell you _and_ Hermione. We need to go someplace safer," he said, glancing around the room. People would get suspicious if Harry beckoned Hermione to come to the boys' dormitory and he didn't want to risk someone walking in on their conversation. "The sun's out. Let's go for a walk. A long one."

_Hope you enjoyed my update frenzy! There should be more coming soon. Feel free to review and flame about how unrealistic the fic has become. But boy, it sure was fun to write!_


	49. A Muggle Meeting

**CHAPTER FOURTY-NINE**

**A Muggle Meeting**

It took quite a bit of effort for Harry and Ron to tear Hermione away from her book, but when she finally got the idea that Harry had big news, she quickly ran up to her room to get some warmer clothes and was ready to go in a flash. Once the three of them were safely outside and alone, Harry began telling them everything: his Legilimency training with Dumbledore, the real reason for his detentions with Draco, and his deal with Dumbledore about Snape's tardiness on Christmas Eve.

"Harry, this is extraordinary!" Hermione exclaimed. "Do you realize what you can do once you have mastered your Legilimency powers?"

"Sounds spooky to me," Ron replied, shivering. "I don't suppose you can read my mind now?"

"Of course not," Harry replied. "It's not like that." Although, it was beginning to get easier and easier to unintentionally read people. However, he didn't need to use his new skills to realize that Ron was a tad bit jealous over the fact that Harry got to spend the night with the girl he loved, and that was what he was really sore about.

"But if you don't even have to speak the incantation, you can dip inside people's minds without them even knowing it," Hermione said. "It's amazing."

"It's scary!"

"Not if you don't have something to hide," Hermione replied, raising an eyebrow at Ron.

"I'm _not_ reading your minds!" Harry cried. "See, this is exactly why I didn't want to tell you. You're both blowing this way out of proportion." He swiped his fingers through his hair in frustration. "In order for this to work, you're going to have to trust me. Otherwise, you'll always be suspicious. I am not going to try and "dip" into your mind," he glared at Hermione, "and I'm not going to see anything that you don't want me to see. You can trust me."

The two of them exchanged guilty glances. "Sorry," Ron muttered.

"We trust you, Harry. Really," Hermione said. "It just might take some getting used to."

Harry sighed. "That's fine. But in the meantime, I need the two of you to help me figure out what Draco was up to in the Olwery."

"What did you say that stuff was called?" Ron questioned.

"Ubreadit with Dried Scaag," Harry replied. "I already know that he used it to empty the Owlery. He wanted to make sure all the owls were gone so that some substance could be delivered."

"But whatever it is, it must not be delivered by an owl," Hermione interjected. "Because then the owl itself wouldn't arrive in the Olwery."

Harry nodded. Hermione was bright enough to catch that right away. That was something he didn't think of until he spoke to Hagrid. If she had known what he did the whole time, would she have already solved the mystery? He was glad that he would have her and Ron to help continue his investigation.

"And what about the owl that was killed last term?" Ron asked.

"Hagrid said that it looked like it had been scorched by a dragon. But a dragon? One of those beasts cannot slip into Hogwarts unnoticed, let alone inside the Owlery."

"Not necessarily," Ron replied. "Charlie says there are a few of breeds of miniature dragons. Some people keep them as pets. They can be trained."

"It could have arrived at night," Hermione said with a shrug. "No one's usually out and about then, at least not outside or up in the skies."

Harry nodded. "And it appears that Malfoy's first attempt at attaining this substance was a failure. So he must have sent for it again. I just don't know what the substance is."

"There are dozens of magical items that can only be touched by dragons or dragon-hide gloves," Hermione said. "But most can be sent by owl using the proper precautions. And I'm guessing that whatever Draco ordered probably came from the black market. I can do some research in the library tonight after dinner. I've already finished my homework for the weekend."

"What a surprise," Ron mumbled.

Hermione glared at him. "We may need to make a trip to the restricted section once or twice as well."

Harry nodded, knowing that probably involved using his cloak. "But Dumbledore said I also need to find a way to keep tabs on Malfoy. I need to get closer to him somehow."

"There's always the good old reliable polyjuice potion," Hermione suggested. "I could whip up a batch and it'll be ready next month."

"A month might be too long," Harry replied.

"And who's he going to turn into, anyways?" Ron questioned. "I doubt Malfoy tells Crabbe or Goyle anything anymore. Stupid gits can't be trusted with anything." He glanced sideways at Harry. "I bet he confesses everything to Pansy Parkinson, though. Caught them snogging last night after dinner. It was disgusting."

"I refuse to turn into Pansy," Harry said. He shuddered, remembering what happened after the Yule Ball when he used his Legilimency skills on Draco. "There's got to be someone else." Maybe even Michael Corner. He and Malfoy seemed to be rather chummy, but he didn't know if he was ready to tell Ron about the ordeal with Michael yet. Ron would kill him if he ever found out his plans for Ginny.

"We can cross that bridge when we come to it," Hermione said. "Think you could talk to Moaning Myrtle about using her bathroom again and keeping it a secret?" she asked Harry.

He sighed. "I guess I'll have to turn on the charm."

"I think you've been doing enough of that lately," Ron laughed. Harry elbowed him. Hermione looked at them suspiciously. "So what should I do?" Ron said quickly.

"You could help Hermione in the research department."

Hermione scoffed. "He'll only slow me down."

"Fine," he said with a scowl. "I can tell when I'm not wanted." He turned on his heel and continued walking down the path, back towards Hogwarts.

"He's such a baby," Hermione said. "I was only joking."

Harry knew that she was, but he also knew how she'd broken Ron's heart only weeks earlier. He was beginning to see Ron's side of things. Not to mention he was feeling a bit of guilt because his own love life was going so well. "Great joke," Harry muttered and followed Ron.

When Harry arrived for his Legilimency training with Dumbledore the next night, the headmaster sent him back to his dormitory to retrieve his coat. Tonight was the night he would join Eva in London to confront David. There would be no lessons.

"You'll be using Floo Powder through this very hearth and go directly to the Ministry," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the fireplace. "Eva will be waiting for you there."

"Sir," Harry said, "before I go, may I ask you a question?"

"Certainly, Harry." The headmaster settled back into his armchair, looking as calm as ever.

Harry hesitated. "Do you… really believe that this is the right thing to do?"

"If it were up to me, I would rather you not leave school grounds and not break school rules, but as we cannot bring the subject to Hogwarts, I suppose this is the best route, yes. It cannot be helped."

"But I'm not just talking about breaking school rules, professor. What we're doing tonight—it's breaking the law. A law that was created to keep Muggles safe. Instead, we are directly violating the Ministry and we're going to change someone's life forever."

"I didn't realize that you struggled with this, Harry," Dumbledore replied, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "You are a legendary rule-breaker."

Harry felt his face flush. He wondered if Dumbledore knew of the nights he and Eva spent together. "It's not just the rule-breaking I'm concerned about."

Dumbledore nodded. "Giving Muggles responsibility in the fight against Voldemort is a giant undertaking that many do not agree with. However, tonight is just a small step, Harry."

But it wasn't exactly that, either. Harry scarcely gave any thought to what David might feel upon hearing everything about the wizarding world. In fact, Harry felt indifferent whether he believed them or not.

"She doesn't understand," Harry declared. "She hasn't experienced the death that comes with fighting Voldemort. She doesn't know how it feels to see the people you care about most die in his clutches. She just doesn't know what she's getting herself into, and now she's about to drag someone else with her."

"You'd be surprised," Dumbledore said quietly. "Harry, I believe that Eva knows what she's up against. She's read everything at the Ministry, she's heard first-hand accounts…"

"But that's not the same as living through it," Harry interrupted. He knew what it was like to be the one left standing—the Boy Who Lived—and the guilt that came with it. He knew how it felt to watch others suffer and die.

"No, it's not." Dumbledore was solemn. "But sometimes Harry, you've just got to have a certain amount of faith in someone. I suggest that instead of trying to sabotage her project you trust her with it first. You may be surprised at the outcome."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied. He had no intention of sabotaging her plans tonight, but he wasn't certain he was going to be entirely cooperative. In his mind, he was accompanying her to see David to make sure that he didn't make a move on her, not to prove to David the existence of magic.

After a few warnings from Dumbledore about how to behave and that leaving Hogwarts tonight was a privilege, he slipped his coat on and stood in front of the fireplace. He took a handful of Floo Powder from a container on the mantle. "Ministry of Magic, London!" he shouted, and stepped into the burning green flames.

Harry twisted and turned through the maze of the Floo Network until he felt himself falling forward. Feeling a little queasy, he stepped into the main hallway of the Ministry. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust from the darkness to the brightly-lit hall. At first he thought he was alone and that perhaps Dumbledore had gotten the time wrong or maybe he was supposed to meet them somewhere else. But a few moments later he heard footsteps and saw red hair approaching him. Mr. Weasley hurried towards him, waving animatedly, but Harry saw there was something off about him. Was he limping?

"Hello, Harry! Sorry, I'm a few moments late. Got caught in the office." He embraced Harry with a tight hug. "How's school? How's _lessons_?"

"Er… they're all right," Harry replied. Was there a fading bruise over his left eye as well? He studied him closely. "What happened to your leg, Mr. Weasley?"

"It's Arthur, Harry. How many times must I remind you?" he said, hesitating. "Afraid I took a nasty fall down the stairwell the other day. Nearly landed in the hospital. But it's much better, mind you." Harry didn't even need to use his Legilimency skills to figure out he was lying. Arthur continued, "I need to give you a few last-minute precautions before you meet up with Eva."

Harry nodded. "Yes sir."

"Now, due to the fact that Muggles often need to see proof with their very own eyes before believing in anything, Eva has warned us that you may need to use a bit of magic to convince the subject that we do, in fact, exist." He seemed to find this quite odd, Harry realized. Arthur still had a lot to understand about Muggles. "Now, we believe that a simple charm will work. Preferably, something colorful and friendly. If it needs to be performed on someone, we recommend you perform the spell on Eva, and not on the subject, as it could frighten him and sent him into hysteria. We were hoping that some sort of object transfiguration would do the trick but he may not believe it even if he does see it, and take you for a run-of-the-mill David Coppertone."

"Copperfield," Harry interrupted.

"Right." Mr. Weasley gestured for him to follow him towards the elevator. "Whatever spell you choose to do, it needs to be small yet effective. I'll leave the choice up to you. Also, we believe that you ought to keep yourself as an anonymous wizard. We realize that you already know the Muggle in question, but he doesn't realize who you are in our world and it would be best to keep it that way."

"Yes sir." In fact, Harry rather enjoyed being anonymous.

"And thirdly, upon completion of the task, no matter the outcome, you and Eva must return to the Ministry straight away. No dilly-dallying. It's a wonder Dumbledore has even allowed you to leave school grounds, and we want to make sure that this operation goes smoothly. No side-trips. I know it's been a while since you and Eva have seen each other, and that it must be torture, but we just cannot risk anything on this mission."

So Mr. Weasley didn't know about their monthly meetings either. "I understand, sir."

"Excellent." Arthur punched a button and Harry felt them moving to the ground level of the Ministry.

Harry took the silent time to appreciate the fact that he was allowed out of Hogwarts for this mission. It was like he was a sanctioned criminal. Leaving the grounds, telling Muggles about the wizarding world, performing magic outside of school. It was special treatment.

When the elevator door opened, Eva and Fudge were waiting by the atrium fountain. Percy was there as well, right at Fudge's side. There was also another woman there, who Harry didn't recognize. She had straight, jet-black hair with a ghostly white forelock and a crooked nose. Her fingernails were long and painted a dark crimson.

When Eva saw him, Harry could sense that she was fighting the urge to run over and greet him properly. She maintained her composure and treated Harry as nothing more than an acquaintance. To the untrained eye their relationship was merely one of business, not pleasure.

"Ready, Harry?" Eva asked as he and Mr. Weasley approached the small assembled group.

He nodded. _Let's get this over with_.

They met David at a restaurant across the street from the movie theater where he and Eva had their Muggle date. She clasped onto his hand when they were a few blocks away from the Ministry. Her own hand was quite warm and a bit sweaty.

"Nervous?" Harry questioned as they walked down the street.

"A bit," she replied, checking her watch for probably the hundredth time.

"It'll be fine," he said, squeezing her hand.

She chewed on her lower lip. "I hope you're right." She pointed to a brown building with a sign that read "Aunt Mae's Pub." "We're a little early. I told him to wait at our table if he got there before me."

"_Our_ table?" Harry questioned.

Eva nodded. "We used to eat dinner here after every paycheck."

Still holding his hand, Eva led him down the street and into the pub, opening the door to a dimly-lit restaurant with a large bar in the center. Immediately, Harry was overwhelmed by the smells of grease, ale, and smoke, but there was also something comforting about it. It reminded him of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Eva, darling!" an older woman cried, striding over to her with a single arm outstretched. She had a tray in the other as she gathered Eva into a fierce plump, one-armed hug. "I thought I'd never see you walk through here again!"

"Aye, I'd never be able to stay away from your fine cooking," Eva said with a grin.

"Where have you been?" she questioned. "David told me you'd been sacked from the company, but I thought for sure you'd come 'round asking for a job sooner or later. Instead, you both disappeared. And who's this?" She gestured to Harry.

"This is Harry," Eva replied. "Harry, this is Aunt Mae."

Harry shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

"A polite one, I see." She winked at Eva. Harry felt himself blushing. He wondered why Eva didn't introduce him as her boyfriend or even as a friend. She didn't need to. Aunt Mae could see their relationship by just looking at them. Was their love really that transparent?

"And I'm not here for a job. Just to catch up with David. Is he here yet?"

"Not yet. Your table's open, if you want to wait for him there. Want anything in the meantime?"

"Just tea please, Mae," Eva replied, unwrapping the scarf Harry gave her for Valentine's Day from around her neck.

Aunt Mae stopped for a moment and placed her hand, palm up, beneath Eva's chin. "You're looking frail, dear. You sure you're all right?"

Eva looked slightly alarmed and quickly flashed a grin. "I'm fine. Just the tea, please."

She gave Eva a pat on the cheek. "All right. I'll be over in a bit." She turned and marched over to the bar, balancing the tray she was holding against her hips.

Harry followed Eva to a dark table near the back. He helped her remove her coat and hung it on a nearby rack, then slipped his own over it. He sat in the chair next to her and watched her silently. She had her hands in her lap at first, fidgeting nervously. Then she laid them on the open table, trying to calm her nerves.

He hadn't noticed how she looked at first, perhaps because he was used to seeing her the night before her transformations, when she looked much worse, but now it was days after the full moon and she was still not fully recovered. The whites of her eyes were red, and her face itself looked pale and puffy. Her clothes looked a size too big for her, and the collar of her sweater exposed the scar-less bone of her shoulder blade. Her hands were shaking. She had one leg crossed over the other and was tapping her foot in the air.

She scowled. "I can't believe I'm so nervous. It's David! It's just David."

Harry didn't think it would do any good to also remind her that her job was riding on tonight's outcome as well. However, he could sense—he couldn't help it anymore—that for Eva, there was a lot more riding on this confrontation as well. It was a test of their friendship. Eva had never had many friends to begin with, and tonight she was risking both her job and her friendship with David.

He put his hand on her knee to stop her from kicking the bottom of the tabletop. "Don't be nervous," he said. It was more of a command. He could sense how panicky she was, and it was making him uneasy as well. "Do you have some kind of a plan to tell him? Or are you just going to come out and say it?"

"I… I don't really know. I sort of had a conversation planned out in me mind, but I'm not sure things will swing that way. I don't know how to tell him."

"Tell me what?"

Eva gasped. David was standing right in front of their table. His hair was lighter—almost blonde—and gelled. He slipped off his own coat and hung it on the rack, not quite looking at them. He was bigger than Harry remembered from that night at the Royal Realm. Better looking, too.

"If it's about your budding relationship with the bloke who got you fired, I'd say that's rather obvious." He spoke harshly, but sat down on the other side of Eva. Harry quickly took his hand away from Eva's lap.

"Er… it's not."

"Good, I'd prefer it if you'd break my heart after we've had a round and not before."

Harry studied him for a moment, feeling slightly panicked. He wasn't expecting a confrontation about his relationship with Eva—at least not this early. Then suddenly, Eva reached over and punched playfully in the shoulder. "You liar! Is that anyway to greet me after I've been gone for so long?"

"You're right." David leaned over and pulled Eva in a tight hug and kissed her on both cheeks. "How are you, stranger?"

"Look at what the cat dragged in!" Aunt Mae bellowed, swooping over to their table with a tray of tea and some frosted cakes.

"Mae!" David cried. He stood up and gathered her in a tight hug. "You get younger and younger every time I see you."

"You're a slippery fellow, David." She turned to Harry. "I'd keep my eye on this one if I were you, Harry. He's got quite a few tricks up his sleeve."

Harry managed a smile and took what Aunt Mae said to heart. He didn't know what he was expecting tonight, but it certainly wasn't this. He felt like such an outsider in the Muggle pub. Now he knew how Eva had been feeling in the wizarding world all along. Was she crazy? She was trying to disturb all of this—this priceless reunion—just to tell David about magic? Didn't she realize what she had in this blissful ignorance?

He was suddenly overwhelmed with images. The dark, exhausting nights they'd spent celebrating in the pub after a particularly challenging show. Or the holiday celebrations with bright decorations and a warm atmosphere. This was a world Harry could never be a part of. A world he couldn't touch.

David took his seat again and ordered up a slab of pie for himself. Harry and Eva stuck with their tea. He poured himself some and added a few cubes of sugar, chatting away. "So how's little Nora doing at boarding school?"

"Really well, actually," Eva replied, taking a sip of her tea. "She always was the brains of the family."

"Oh, nonsense," David replied. "And I bet she misses you like crazy."

"It's the other way around, sadly." She grinned sheepishly. "I'm quite proud of her."

"As you should be." For the first time that evening, he cast a long look in Harry's direction. He'd felt invisible as David and Eva caught up. "And what's your story, Harry? Eva said you both had something to tell me."

Harry and Eva exchanged glances as someone from the bar brought over David's pie. Aunt Mae was busy with other customers. "Perhaps we'd better wait until you're done eating," Eva suggested.

"I see. So it's serious, is it?" David frowned. Harry caught him stealing a glance at Eva's middle. Oh god! He thought Harry'd gotten her pregnant.

"Not in the way you're thinking," Harry said quickly.

David looked at him sideways. "And how would you know what I'm thinking?" he demanded.

"I… I guess I wouldn't."

David set his fork down and wiped his mouth off with his napkin. "I think I'd rather have you tell me now, if it's all the same. I thought this was going to be a casual catch-up call, but now I see that it's strictly business."

Eva sighed. "Don't be angry, David. Really, it is great to see you again. I can't tell you how much I've missed you in the past few months."

"Yes, well, you're the one who disappeared. You didn't even bother to call or write. I was afraid I'd be reading your obituary in the papers!"

"I'm sorry I worried you, but I'll explain." Eva chewed on her lower lip. Harry was in-sync with her; he couldn't help it. He just couldn't make himself turn his Legilimency skills off. It was too important. He had to understand what both Eva and David were thinking to avoid any disasters. This was starting to look like a horrible idea.

Eva thought so too. Maybe she should have met David on a lonely street corner instead of a noisy pub. She was doing this all wrong. "David," she began, "on the night I was fired, I know there were a lot of things you didn't understand. Hell, there were a lot of things I didn't understand either." She paused. "Well, now I'm going to explain them to you, so that you will understand.

"For almost two years you were my best friend. I know there was a time when I couldn't picture my life without you…"

Harry suddenly found himself wishing that he wasn't there for this part of the conversation. A montage of images overwhelmed him. The day David and Eva met at an anonymous marketplace, a harmless outing to a movie, getting Eva a job as a runner at the Royal Realm. There was a history between them he wasn't even aware of. David was the only person she could confide her fears in during that part of her life.

"A lot of things have changed since that night."

"So I see," David replied, glaring at Harry.

"What happened to me—with the, er, dancing—well, it was quite literally magic." David looked confused. Eva took a deep breath, and then quickly plunged into her explanation head-first. "What if I told you that there was another world that coexisted with our own? One filled with magical beings that we only heard about in fairy tales. Witches and wizards and warlocks and werewolves."

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" David questioned. "Are you mad?"

"No, David. I'm quite serious. What you saw that night was magic. You saw my legs, you saw how I had no control. It was a spell. A spell that Harry performed."

David turned and looked at Harry, his eyes narrowed in disgust. Suddenly, he stood up and threw himself across the table at Harry. "You bastard! What did you do to her? You bloody brainwashed her!"

Eva quickly sprang to her feet and used all of her strength to push David back into his seat. "He didn't do anything to me. It's the truth, David. I know it's hard to believe, but it's the truth. What reason would I have to lie to you?"

"What reason would you have to _tell_ me?" David demanded. "Eva, you're insane! You can't seriously believe in this rubbish."

"I've been living this rubbish every day these past few months. I'm telling you because I thought that you, my best friend, of all people would believe me! This other world, David, they need our help!"

"Oh really? You mean Harry here can't just use his magical powers to fix his own crazy world?"

"It's not like that. If you would only try to understand. Just believe me. Harry can even perform the spell for you. He can make it happen again."

"He's probably some sort of clever psychotic hypnotist. No, save your magic for someone else. I would have expected something like this from _him_," he said, jerking a thumb at Harry, "but not from you, Eva. This is insulting."

"But I'm telling you the truth. David, if you'd just come back with me to my office, you'd understand. I can show you…"

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" he cried.

Eva noticed some people around the bar were watching them. She lowered her voice. "Fine. You don't have to come with me. Just believe me. I know it's a lot to take in, but think about it. All of the things that have happened to both of us. The things that we've seen. It makes sense." She was calmer, more forceful.

David almost believed her. Harry could sense it. But there was something still standing in his way, some kernel of doubt that wouldn't let him believe. Harry knew what it was: fear.

"This is ridiculous. You don't even know what you're talking about—what you're suggesting."

"I do, David. And I'm right."

This conversation seemed to be going way over Harry's head. The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like ages to Harry. Suddenly, he was bombarded with images of the two of them together. Flirting. Touching.

Kissing.

David was the first to break away. "I don't believe it," he said simply. "I don't believe _you_."

Eva sat back in her chair as though she'd just been slapped across the face. _I don't believe_ you. It echoed inside of Eva's entire being. David quietly stood up, took his coat, and walked out of the pub, leaving Eva in shattered pieces.

"I thought he would believe me," Eva whispered, her eyes swelling. She was fighting back tears. "I thought after everything… I thought he'd believe _me_."

Harry couldn't find any words. He was filled with raw emotion. Jealousy. How could she let him have his hands on her? How could she let him press his lips on her own? He was shaking with fury. Why didn't she _tell_ him they were like that once?

"Oh god, I just lost it all. Everything I worked so hard for. My job. My friends. My mission." She pressed her face into her hands.

"That might not be all," Harry mumbled.

Eva lifted her head and glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"You never told me you two were together."

"But we weren't together," she replied, confused.

"You kissed him." He knew he shouldn't have said it. It was privileged information. But she was the girl he loved—the girl who held his heart in the palm of her hands.

"How do you know…?" she began, but then realized it wasn't important how he knew, just that he did. "It was just once. It was a mistake."

"Only once?" Harry scoffed. There had to be more. He'd kissed her many times, and there was no way any man could do it just once.

However, as he searched, he realized it was the truth. She had kissed David, just once, and he pushed her away. She thought there was something more that friendship between them, and took a chance one late night after work, and he refused her.

Eva studied him, and this time her eyes were wet. "It was a long time ago, Harry. It didn't mean anything." But it meant something to Eva. It meant heartache.

The damage had been done. "Let's go," Harry said gruffly. He stood up and got his coat. Eva slipped some pounds onto the table, got her own coat and threw it over her shoulders. She followed Harry silently out the door.

The scarf he'd given her only a week earlier lay draped across the rack.


	50. Misery

_A/N: Thanks so much to Ana and Ki for sending me the emails about Lockhart's book and other werewolf ideas! You may have completely changed the outcome of my fanfics!_

**CHAPTER FIFTY**

**Misery**

The snow was blowing outside, but Harry didn't bother to button his coat. Instead, he just kept putting one foot after the other, heading back towards the Ministry. He could hear Eva's soft footsteps behind him. She didn't speak. Harry could feel her wounds in the air. She was hurt and confused. He was afraid that if he spoke, he'd say the wrong thing. He was in no condition to comfort her at her darkest hour.

"My scarf!" she cried suddenly. Harry turned around and saw her searching her bare neck for it. Her skin was already red from the cold. "I left it in the pub." She turned around and started heading back down the street.

"Maybe you should leave it there," Harry muttered. He didn't think she heard him, but she did. She turned on her heel and threw up her hands in frustration.

"What is the matter with you!" she shouted, her temper flaring. There was at least ten feet between them on the deserted street, but it felt like she was yelling in his ear. She rushed forward with her index finger outstretched and poked him in the shoulder. "Do you mean to tell me that you, the famous Harry Potter, never kissed a girl before me?" she whispered hoarsely.

Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach. The guilt made him blush. Of course he'd had his share of romance. And he had kissed girls before Eva. He was being ridiculous. He was acting like a child.

"You never went on a date with a girl?" she continued, her voice growing louder. "You never bought her flowers or chocolates or scarves to seduce her? You can't fool me, Harry. At Hogwarts, you are a hero. You're a seeker. You're a Triwizard Tournament Champion. You're a leader. You are the heartthrob of dozens of girls." She took a step back from him and caught her breath. He thought he could hear her counting to five in her head, trying to calm down. "Aye, there may have been a time when I thought David was the one for me, but I learned real hard and real fast that we weren't meant to be. I'd rather not dwell on it, but if you want me to tell you every single thing that happened between us, I will. I'll do it if that's what it takes to convince you that you are the man I love and not him."

Harry gulped. "That's not necessary. I just…wish you would have mentioned it earlier."

Eva stared at him, her eyes piercing through the night like daggers. "I just thought you would have trusted me," she whispered, more hurt than angry. "Lord knows that I have faith in you. Now are you going to come with me to go and get that scarf or do I have to go alone?"

"I'll go," Harry replied quietly.

This time it was Eva who led and didn't look back. Harry felt foolish about the way he acted, but he couldn't help how he felt. He was just waiting for something to go wrong in their relationship, for all of the happiness she brought with her would disappear. It would be worse than death.

He could tell that she was still holding her tongue by the time they made it back to the pub. There were so many things she wanted to say to Harry but the guilt she felt about not telling him about her past with David kept her temper corked for the time-being. He was grateful.

Eva slipped back into the pub, hoping not to be noticed by Aunt Mae, who was whipping up a storm of drinks behind the bar. Harry had kept his hands shoved into his pockets because he'd forgotten his gloves back at Hogwarts and took them out to breathe on them in the cool night air. When he did, the Moon Guide rolled out of his pocket and fell to the ground. It was only a shade whiter than the snow, and he would have missed it if he hadn't heard it hit a bare part of the sidewalk with a quiet clank.

He was just too cold to pick it up. His hands were freezing, and he was wishing that he'd gone into the pub with Eva because at least he could have warmed up a little.

"Accio Moon Guide," he said quietly, carefully keeping his wand hidden in his sleeve and holding out the palm of his other hand. The small ball flew off the ground and into his hand, and then slipped it back into his pocket. Eva came back out of the pub with the scarf draped around her neck.

"I think the temperature's dropped," she muttered. Harry accepted this statement as a sign of peace between them. They walked next to each other, though still not touching, yet civil.

"Are you really going to lose your job?" Harry asked her in the darkness.

"Afraid so," Eva replied. "I… I still can't believe what happened. He… he knows that there is such thing as magic. I mean, before I met you, I'd had my share of experiences with wizards that I wasn't aware of. But thinking back, David's had even more."

Harry digested this for a moment. Was there really a Muggle who had never been touched by something unexplainable? Some small detail that kept them awake at night? Or did they all walk around knowing that things weren't quite what they always seemed?

"I know I shouldn't be admitting it," Harry said into the quiet night, "but I'm glad it didn't work out tonight. I know that you'll be out of a job and that everything you've worked so hard for will be gone, but at least you're safe."

Eva stopped in her tracks. Immediately, Harry knew he should have just kept his mouth shut. "Is that why you didn't say a bloody word through the whole thing? Because you wanted it to fail?"

"Not exactly… I…"

"You wanted me to fail, didn't you? You wanted this whole operation to fall flat on its face so that I would be safe!" She threw the word back at him like it didn't mean anything. "You think you can protect me? Keep me safe? I don't want to be safe, Harry! I want the world to be safe! I want Muggles to be safe! I want Nora to be safe!"

Harry sighed. "Eva, I'm sorry. I can't help it; it's the truth." He tried to put his hands on her shoulders to reason with her, but she pushed him away. She glared at him with those piercing blue eyes and spoke harshly.

"You need to learn that I don't need you to keep me out of trouble. I may have to put up with your arguments about how Muggles can do nothing against Voldemort, but I refuse to put up with the argument that I cannot take care of myself. I am deeply offended that you think I was some stupid damsel in distress before you came along. I was fine before you came into my life. I supported myself, I supported my little sister, and I was safe. I'm afraid you are mistaken if you think that you are my knight in shining armor."

"But I don't think that," Harry replied. "I just think you're naive. You don't know what you're up against. Reading about Voldemort and his minions in a Ministry report or a newspaper isn't the same as fighting him face-to-face. You don't understand."

"I do understand, Harry. I understand perfectly." For a moment, he thought she was hiding something from him, but it must have been his imagination. "I've just had the worst night of my entire short career at the Ministry; I've lost my friend, my integrity, and apparently my honor in your heart," she said, bringing up Harry's delightful bit of untrustworthiness of David. "And now you're saying that you don't believe in me."

Harry didn't know why she making this into an even bigger argument about something totally unrelated. "Eva, that's not it at all."

"Yes, it is." She started walking swiftly towards the Ministry. Harry tried to stop her, to pull her around so that she would look into his eyes and see that he was merely worried about her. He could see hot tears falling down her cheeks. She just wouldn't look him in the eyes.

"Until you decide to have some faith in me," she said, "I don't want to see you."

Stunned, Harry stopped in his tracks. Eva said nothing more and hurried over to the phone booth to get into the Ministry. Did she just break up with him? Did she really just say that she didn't want to see him?

He felt physical pain in her chest as he watched her small figure disappear inside the phone booth. It was so quick… was it really an end? He didn't even know what she meant. He didn't know what she wanted from him.

Harry let the fury rise inside of him because it was better to feel angry than to be hurt. Fine, he could stay away from her. He didn't need her. He may always be in love with her, but she was wrong. It would only be a matter of days before she realized what a huge mistake she made and come crawling back to him. Maybe just a few hours.

He could tough it out. He had faith—lots of faith. He had faith that he was right.

He was wrong. It only took one night of restless sleep to realize how wrong he was.

Perhaps he was under the illusion that he had saved Eva a few times. But the truth was, she never needed saving. When she battled that bough of Devil's Snare, even Mr. Weasley said that she kept her head and was quite competent saving herself. He'd tried to "save" her from the white knight's kiss at the Royal Realm, when she didn't need his help at all. In fact, he'd done nothing but mess up her life from the moment he walked into it. The most recent example being that he didn't help her at all with her confrontation with David.

But he also realized that sometimes, it wasn't because he didn't have faith in her that he wanted to keep her safe. It was just because he loved her so much that he couldn't help but do everything in his power to keep her out of danger.

The first week without her, he had kept himself under the illusion that one morning he'd go to breakfast, and Hedwig would deliver him a letter from her, whether it was an apology or more fighting words. But no words came at all.

The second week he began to think of ways to win her back without admitting that he was wrong. Maybe if he overwhelmed her with gifts or some kind of forgiveness potion she would come back to him, no questions asked.

The third week he spent one entire dinner period making a list of all the ways he could show her that he believed in her.

_Ways to Win Eva Back_

_1. Stage a situation where I need to be saved, then let her save me, and finish with an outstanding, "I knew you could do it," kind of speech._

_2. Apologize over a candle-lit dinner where she's only allowed to wear the scarf I bought her._

_3. Just tell her that I really do have faith in her, and that I'm sorry I doubted her for everything, especially about accusing her of kissing David and not knowing what she's up against._

_4. If none of the above work: beg, plead, and weep for forgiveness._

"What are you doing, Harry?" Nora sat down next to him, setting a satchel of books next to her on the bench. She studied the paper Harry was writing on.

"Nothing," Harry replied quickly and rolled up the parchment.

"Look, I know that you and Eva are fighting right now," she said, pushing her dark curls out of her eyes. "But I also know that she loves you and she's miserable without you. Just as miserable as you are without her."

"Is it that obvious?" Harry questioned.

"Kind of," she said. "Sorry." Harry gave a loud sigh. "Don't worry, I know it's not over between the two of you. She'll come around eventually."

"You really think so?"

"I know so," Nora declared. "I've got faith in her."

Harry's shoulders slumped. That was the whole problem. "And how, exactly, do you show her that you believe in her?"

Nora hesitated. "I'm not sure. It just sort of happens naturally. I mean, she's my big sister. I know she'll always be there for me. It's the same way she has faith in you. She knows that you'll always be there for her."

So how could he show that he knew she'd always be there for him?

"Harry, have you ever read Wandering with Werewolves by Guilderoy Lockhart?" she questioned in a low voice.

"Yes, actually," Harry said. "Lockhart was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher during my second year." He recalled the professor painfully, and a bit sadly for his current condition at St. Mungo's. "It's a load of rubbish—why do you ask?"

"Well, in the one chapter, he mentions something about a cure for a recently-bit village werewolf."

Harry could see where she was going with this. "Nora, I really don't think you should get your hopes up. Lockhart was a fake. He didn't really do any of the things he writes about. He was really just a master of memory charms and a manipulator."

"I know, I know. I've read all of the articles about him. But Harry, don't you see? Someone must have done it, or else he wouldn't have put it in his book. It must be true."

"Not necessarily. He was a liar. He could have made the whole thing up."

"But we could try what he says in the book. And if it doesn't work, maybe we could find the village where it happened, or even the witch or wizard who did it…"

"They wouldn't even remember it," Harry interrupted.

"But there have been cases where the spell has been performed wrong, or the memory charm has left holes in the person's mind. Maybe there would still be something there. Some hint or clue that could lead to a cure for Eva."

"I doubt it," Harry replied. "It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"But still worth a shot!" Nora exclaimed. "Harry, don't you want her to be cured? Don't you want her to be normal?"

"Of course," Harry said. Although, he was pretty sure that Eva could never be a normal Muggle again. "I just don't think that the key to her cure is in one of Lockhart's unreliable best-sellers."

Nora looked positively hurt by Harry's conclusion. She picked up her satchel of books and got up from the table. "Eva's right," she agreed bitterly. "You really don't have faith in anyone at all." Stunned, Harry watched as the first-year marched over to the other end of the Gryffindor table and sat next to Dennis Creevey.

Harry slammed his head down on the table. Now both the Finnigan women were mad at him. What had he done to deserve such punishment?

By the night before the full moon, Harry still made no move to makeup with Eva. He'd started dozens of letters to her, but none were especially convincing, and they were usually either filled with fake remorse or angry things he wished he would have said that night they fought.

"Something's a bit off about you tonight, Harry," Neville said at the end of the D.A. meeting that night.

Harry didn't bother to deny it. He'd been quite distracted and would have been surprised if his friends would even be able to perform half the charms they'd practiced again. He would definitely have to have a review at the next meeting.

"It's a girl, isn't it?" Dean said. "You can tell by the sick look in his eyes."

Harry's roommates, who had stuck around after the meeting because of his obvious lack of enthusiasm, were now crowded around him, shaking their heads.

"It's that Muggle girl, isn't it? The one from the paper?" Neville asked.

"Hey, that's me cousin you're talking about," Seamus interrupted. "And if I know anything about Eva, it's that she's a handful." The boys laughed.

Harry couldn't join in. They spoke of her like they knew her, or knew of others like her. Ron practically read his mind. He clapped Harry on the back. "Some girls are just too complex. Too much of a handful. They're not worth it, Harry."

He shrugged Ron's hand away. "How would you know?"

"Yeah, I hear Luna's got you wrapped around her finger, doing her homework for her and all," Dean laughed.

"We're just friends," Ron said stubbornly. "And trust me, it's going to stay that way. I've learned my lesson. Girls are all bad news."

"Say, let's have a guy's night tonight," Dean said suddenly. "We'll stay up late and break out the butterbeer and talk about Fleur Delacour and how she totally blew off Ron when he asked her to the Yule Ball."

"But we've got class tomorrow," Neville reminded him.

"So what? I think this is just what Harry needs right now," Dean said with a mischievous grin.

"What do you say Harry? Are you up for it?" Ron asked.

Harry grinned. A guy's night. Maybe Dean was right. He was sick of all the drama and heartache that so many girls brought with them. But tonight was the full moon. It was his chance to see Eva in person and apologize to her.

But why apologize when he could have a night of fun?

"I'm in. I've got to go take care of something first, though."

Using the Marauder's Map, Harry made sure it was safe for each one of the Gryffindor boys to make it back up to the tower. Then he made sure that no one was in his way as he scurried down to Dumbledore's office.

Because of the D.A. meetings, and probably because of Eva's arrival at Hogwarts, Dumbledore stopped keeping him for Legilimency training on the nights before the full moon. He felt a little guilty for not taking advantage of this time to spend it with Eva, but he didn't think he was ready to go and apologize to her. Just one more night in a silent argument wouldn't hurt.

But part of him felt incredibly guilty thinking that Eva would have to go through her transformation thinking that he didn't care about her.

However, he stood firm in his decision not to see her. He told Dumbledore that he wouldn't be going down to the kitchens that night. The headmaster's eyes were sad as he nodded solemnly. "As you wish, Harry," he replied. Again, Harry felt guilty. Dumbledore didn't know that he wasn't visiting Eva because he wanted to have a night of fun with his friends.

By the time he made it back up to Gryffindor Tower, he felt like the dumbest person on the planet. What was he thinking? Eva would be worried about him by now. Or maybe she didn't expect him to show up at all. Maybe she didn't even want him to show up.

This kind of thinking only led Harry into an ignorant stupor. For hours that night, he joked around with the guys and was under the illusion that he could be out of love with Eva for the time-being. However, after consuming nearly a gallon of butterbeer and experiencing a definite sugar high, he realized that all he was doing was numbing the pain. Truly, he was miserable without her.

When he and the other sixth-year boys crawled into bed as the sun peaked over the horizon, he found he couldn't sleep. Neville's snoring was overpowering, and Ron was having a very heated discussion with Hermione in his sleep. All he could do was lay and think of Eva and how stupid he'd been. How could he sleep knowing that she was at Hogwarts and they weren't together? Could she still love him after all these weeks they hadn't spoken?

He didn't really think he had a problem with faith before. There had been a number of instances where he relied on others when his life depended on it. He showed his faith in Dumbledore during his second year while fighting the basilisk, and was rewarded with Godric Gryffindor's sword. He had faith in Ron and Hermione, trusting them with his deepest and darkest of secrets. He trusted Sirius with his frustrations of school and Voldemort and girls…

But Sirius wasn't there for him anymore.

He realized with a start that since Sirius had disappeared, he'd only relied on himself. It wasn't just because Eva was a girl that he didn't trust her—it was because he loved her so much and he knew how much it would hurt if she wasn't there for him one day. If something happened to her and she was ripped from his life forever, he didn't know how he could go on existing. He'd already been through it with Sirius; he couldn't do it again with Eva. Not when she meant so much to him.

And now all the faith that she had placed in him was dwindling. Even though she said she didn't need a knight in shining armor, that didn't mean that she didn't have one in him. Perhaps she'd been waiting for him to show up all night, alone and in pain on some cot in a room off the kitchen, doubting him. Cursing him.

No, Eva was stronger than that. She wouldn't be sitting around, waiting for him. She was stubborn and smart. He had faith in her.

He really did.


	51. Deadly Recognition

**CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE**

**Deadly Recognition**

Harry was in a dead sleep until Ron suddenly ripped the curtains of his canopy apart and said hoarsely, "We're late for class." He awoke and dressed in record time. He and Ron sprinted down to Professor Avis's classroom, where Neville, Dean, and Seamus were already sitting, listening to her lecture about Muggle science. There were a few giggles as the two of them entered the classroom.

"Thanks for waking us up," Ron muttered, taking a seat next to Neville in the back.

"We tried, but you and Harry were both goners. We even skipped breakfast," Neville added.

"Mr. Weasley, you've already disrupted my class once today. I'd appreciate it if you didn't do it again," Professor Avis snapped.

"Sorry, Professor," Ron mumbled. His eyes were only half open and his red hair sticking up on the top of his head.

Harry glanced at his watch. Luckily, they were only about ten minutes late. Professor Avis was usually pretty lenient about giving detentions for tardiness. And it was clear that both he and Ron had slept in and weren't off goofing around instead of going to class.

"Today, we'll continue our discussion of illness versus hex," Professor Avis began. "As Mr. Weasley has told you from his various lectures on the subject, it is sometimes difficult to determine the difference between an illness and a hex. For example, many teenagers are afflicted with acne, Muggles and magic folk alike. Sometimes, it takes a specialist to determine whether it is simply a bad breakout or an actual hex that inflicts damage upon the skin cells…"

Harry could feel his eyes dropping shut. He was exhausted. They'd gone to bed so late in the first place, plus he must have spent at least a good hour thinking of Eva. But now he knew what he had to do. That night, as soon as the moon set, he was going to go down to the kitchens and see Eva. He was going to tell her how sorry he was, and he was going to fix whatever was left of their relationship. It was a comforting thought to know that things would be going back to normal soon.

It was almost too comforting. His eyes were shut more often than they were open. It was lucky that the only two open seats in the classroom were in the back. Professor Avis didn't seem to notice that both he and Ron were drifting off to sleep. Harry briefly wondered if he should use a Skiving Snackbox. He thought that there was a PukingPastilles in his back pocket, but he didn't think he had the energy to take it and then manage to swallow the antidote before making too much of a mess. It just wasn't worth it.

Harry balanced his head on his hand with his elbow supporting him against the tabletop of the desk. He didn't even bother to keep his eyes open anymore. Sleep was far too comforting…

"_I know he has it, my lord."_

It was the young Malfoy, cowering in front of him. He had arrogance and courage and stupidity, just like is father. Yet at least with this generation there was more courage than all else. The Dark Lord spoke quickly:

"_He said Dumbledore destroyed it…"_

"_With all due respect, my lord, he lies. I have seen it. I have touched it. He has told me how to create and use it. There is only one part he is not sure of, and that part I can figure out on my own."_

"_So he has betrayed me."_

"_Indeed, my lord. He has always been my patriarch, and I am also shocked by his treachery."_

There was his arrogance again, showing through his servitude. He stood from his seat and in one powerful motion pushed Malfoy onto the hard stone floor. He laughed.

"_Do not pretend he served you the same way he served me. You have proven your worth today, young Malfoy, but you still have much left to learn."_

The Dark Lord continued to laugh and laugh, so hard that Harry felt his head trembled with it. With a loud bang, his head ached, not just his scar but his entire jaw.

His eyes flashed open and he realized that he was still in class and everyone was staring at him. He touched his jaw and winced. His elbow had slipped off the desktop and his chin smashed into the hard surface. But his scar still tingled from what he saw in his dream.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Professor Avis called.

Harry gulped. "Er, I think… I think I ought to go see Madam Pomfrey, professor." He got up from his desk, a bit shaky. He tried not to notice the snickers from his fellow students.

"Do you want someone to go with you?" she questioned. "Ron, perhaps?" Ron looked quite concerned, and still tired, so he nodded. "All right, you two. To the hospital wing, straight away. And I want you back before the end of class, Mr. Weasley," she warned. Ron nodded and carefully led Harry out of the classroom door.

"Please tell me that was just a ploy to get out of class to get some more sleep," Ron said quietly once they were safely outside.

Harry rubbed his chin. "I wish I could. I really did a number to my jaw." He wiggled it around and it cracked a bit. It felt back to normal, but his scar was still tingling.

"Dumbledore's office, then?" Ron questioned.

Harry nodded. He shivered. He could still see Malfoy's beady eyes staring at him, his cocky smile as he turned his own father in. But what for? And why? Harry didn't understand.

But it was some final proof that Malfoy was in a joint venture with Voldemort. Maybe now Dumbledore could do something about it.

However, when Harry told his vision to Dumbledore behind closed doors, the headmaster made no move to alert the authorities to arrest Malfoy. He merely sat behind his desk and stroked his beard, calm as ever.

"You're sure he was talking about Lucius?" Dumbledore questioned.

Harry shrugged. "He said it was someone who'd always been his patriarch. I'd assume he was talking about Lucius…"

"Never assume anything, Harry. It is a fool's action."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied. He rubbed his forehead. He wished that the tingling feeling would go away. It felt so eerie. And he was afraid that Voldemort was somehow using his scar against him. It made him feel vulnerable.

"Harry, you have my permission to spend the rest of the day in the hospital wing. I suggest you get some sleep. However," he said forcefully, "I also suggest that you fix whatever is keeping you awake at night."

"Yes, headmaster." And Harry had every intention to.

With an afternoon of sleep at the hospital wing, Harry would have no problem staying up past the full moon so that he could go down and visit Eva. He was quite a bit nervous for it. Not only because he wasn't sure if that was where she stayed during the transformations, or how she would look so soon after, but also because he wasn't sure she wanted to see him.

Harry woke just in time for dinner. He joined Hermione in the dining hall—Ron was skipping dinner in favor of catching up on some sleep—and told her about his dream. However, she was more interested in whatever Malfoy and Voldemort were talking about than the fact that Malfoy was so close to the Dark Lord.

"It must be something tangible. He said he could create it, so I suppose it could be a spell. But he touched it. Perhaps it's an object?"

"Whatever it is, it seems that Voldemort is eager to get his hands on it," Harry said quietly. He glared across the room at the Slytherin table and at Malfoy's smug position next to Pansy Parkinson. He wanted nothing more than to go over there and rip the security away from him. He wished that there was some way to communicate to Malfoy that he knew all about his meeting with Voldemort, his black market ingredients, and his deal with Michael Corner.

Malfoy caught him looking at him, and as a joke, threw himself backward off the bench, holding onto his forehead. The Slytherins around him all hooted with laughter as Draco got up and took a bow. He waved at Harry.

"Ignore him. What a prick," Hermione muttered.

Harry knew that language held no bounds for Hermione where Draco Malfoy was concerned. "Just wait, Hermione. One day, we'll get him. We'll get that smug smile off his face."

"I don't doubt it," Hermione replied. "Think we ought to take up some food for Ron?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose."

"Think he's really sleeping?"

"Of course." Harry glanced at Hermione suspiciously. "Why wouldn't he be?" Especially after the night they had.

Suddenly, Hermione hid her head in her hands. Harry thought for a moment that she was crying, but when she looked up her eyes were dry. However, there was despair in her face. "I saw him and Luna together after lunch today. It was horrible."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that they spent the afternoon break in the library doing old puzzles in _The Quibbler_ together and exchanging stories about their neighbors."

"Hermione, are you jealous?"

She glared at Harry, stubborn. "Absolutely not."

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter to you then that Ron has told me there is nothing more than friendship between them and that's exactly the way he wants it?"

Hermione's expression seemed to soften. "He said that?"

Harry nodded. He didn't understand why Ron and Hermione weren't still together in the first place.

"Harry, please don't tell him that this conversation ever happened. I don't want him to think that I'm jealous."

"Why not? You are, aren't you?"

But she still wouldn't admit it. "Please, Harry. It would only make things more difficult."

"Fine," Harry replied. He was so tired of the games that couples played with each other. In a few long hours, he would finally be able to end his own chapter of games and be with Eva again. That was all that mattered.

He and Hermione gathered some food and took it up to Gryffindor Tower with them. Ron was still asleep in the boys' dormitory when Harry brought the food up to him and set it on his nightstand. He returned to the common room and spent a few hours playing some chess against Ginny and Hermione at one of the back tables. Every once in a while Nora, who was doing her homework near the fireplace, would catch his eye and look outside at the rising moon. Harry still felt bad for bursting her bubble about Lockhart's werewolf cure, but he continued to believe that she shouldn't get her hopes up for nothing.

Curfew came and everyone retreated to their own dormitories. Harry was greeted once again by Neville's snoring and Ron's mumbling. He wished that he could get a little more sleep before he took off to see Eva. However, in the dead of night, he was wide awake. He took the Moon Guide out of his pocket studied it.

It was dark. The darkest he'd ever seen it. Even though it appeared ominous, Harry was glad it was so black. It meant that the full moon was almost over. He didn't have to keep his eyes in the sky for as soon as the moon set, the ball would turn bright white, so white that it hurt his eyes to look at. He had seen it happen one time earlier in the year, after Remus had given it to him and before Eva became a werewolf. It was when the Moon Guide seemed to hold the most magic.

The temptation to look through the dark globe and say those magic words was almost overpowering. He wanted to make sure she was all right, but he also knew that she wouldn't want him to see her in her condition. Not to mention that he didn't even know if Eva was still wearing the Moon Guide. Perhaps she took it off so that he wouldn't be able to spy on her.

What would he see, anyway? With Snape's magic potion, Eva was probably just curled up in a corner of a room somewhere, waiting for the night to pass. He was comforted by the fact that she had Snape's potion as a resource to counter the horrible side effects of the transformation.

Maybe just a peek… What could it hurt?

And just as Harry raised the globe to his eye and was about to speak the incantation, he was blinded by a bright light. The globe turned from pitch black to gleaming white in an instant.

Slightly stunned and quite blind in one eye, Harry checked his watch. It was four-thirty in the morning. As quietly as possible, he hopped out of bed and began packing his bag with supplies. Hastily, he put an extra change of clothes and some of the untouched food he'd brought Ron, as well as some candy from Honeydukes. He didn't know how weak Eva would be, and he wanted to bring her something—anything—that might make her feel better.

He tiptoed past his housemates and out the dormitory door where he followed the stairs down to the common room. He slipped past the Fat Lady and was already halfway down the stairs with the Marauder's Map in hand when he realized his stupidity.

He'd forgotten the invisibility cloak.

Harry groaned. One of the portraits on the stairwell stirred in its sleep. Did he have time to go back? Could he risk making it down to the kitchen without it?

Perhaps it was because he ached for her that he went against his better judgment and continued making his way down to the kitchens. As long as he kept his eye on the Marauder's Map, he shouldn't run into trouble. If he was elusive enough, he would have no need to be invisible.

He made it to the kitchen without being spotted. He tickled the pear and the portrait door swung open on squeaky hinges. Holding his wand like a torch, he quietly walked down the stairs into the kitchen.

The place was dark and deserted. No house-elves scurried about. No hearth was lit. There was only a single candelabra that provided a hint of light in the center of the room.

However, he could hear voices at the end of the corridor. He stumbled in the darkness over to where the noises were coming from, wishing that he had turned back for the invisibility cloak. However, with the Marauder's Map in hand, he could see that Remus, Tonks, and Eva were directly ahead of him, along with four house-elves, including Dobby.

Harry quickly put out his wand and watched the map by the glow of the dim candlelight, and saw that Tonks was with Remus, perhaps moving him, outside of one room and into another. Eva, however, did not move from the room next-door. The fact that her name remained still sent shivers down Harry's spine.

Harry took a chance and peeked around the corner. He was shocked to see that the two rooms that were side-by-side were not rooms at all, but cages. Eva lay in a heap on the stone floor. Harry thought for a moment she was dead; she appeared so lifeless. However, he could see her breathing. It was shallow and fast, and the Moon Guide was still fastened around her neck.

So she had left it on.

Harry realized that but for the blanket, Eva was naked. He'd never really thought about the transformation before, but he supposed that it would rip her clothes apart just as it had Remus' when he'd seen his transformation three years ago.

Harry could feel his heart thumping madly in his chest. Is this really what Eva had to go through during each full moon? For some reason, it seemed crueler than letting her transform in a forgotten wilderness somewhere. At least in the forest she could have some anonymity. Some dignity.

Eva began to stir. She opened her eyes and carefully moved into a sitting position. She bashfully pulled the blanket more securely around her naked body. Tonks returned from the room she'd just helped Remus into.

"Are you all right?" Tonks questioned. "Can you stand?"

"Give me a moment," she whispered hoarsely.

Tonks nodded. She stepped back outside the cage and spoke to the house-elves, apparently dismissing them. Three of them worked their special magic to disappear, while only Dobby remained. By the time Tonks had finished speaking to him and sent him on an errand, Eva was up on her feet, but still relying heavily on the wall for support.

"I've got you," Tonks said. She went into the cage and pulled Eva's arm around her shoulders. She practically dragged her to the adjacent room where Remus was waiting.

Harry glanced in either direction, not particularly caring whether he would get caught, and followed them to the room. He lingered outside the doorway, watching closely.

Remus was already sitting on one of the beds, buttoning the cuff of his sleeve. He looked like hell, but at least he was conscious. His hands didn't seem to work properly though, as he struggled with the buttons. After, he laid back against the wall as though all of his energy had been used up in the single act of putting his shirt on.

Tonks set Eva down on the opposite bed with a gentle bounce. There was a small pile of clothes at the foot, but Eva made no move to put them on. She was ghastly pale and her breathing still came in abnormal gasps. Beads of sweat gathered around her forehead as she closed her eyes and attempted to catch her breath. She didn't look like she could lift a finger, let alone dress herself.

Tonks sat down on the bed next to Remus and held his hand. It was a tight grip, almost as though she was expecting him to slip through her fingers at any moment. All of this had to take its toll on her.

"Don't… Don't wait around on my account," Eva whispered breathlessly. "I-I'm all right. I just need some time."

"Eva, we can't leave you like this…"

She raised her hand to silence Tonks. "I'll be fine. Dobby's here. Time together—it's precious." Tonks and Remus still didn't budge. "Go!" she cried. Her eyes snapped shut. Clearly, she was not ready to shout yet.

"Don't get yourself upset," Tonks said. She got up from the bed and went over to Eva and pulled her wet hair away from her forehead. "Do you want a glass of water? Some tea perhaps? Do you want me to help you dress?"

"I can do it myself!" Eva bellowed.

Remus grunted. "There, you see, she's fine. Her temper's back already." He grinned weakly at Eva and winked. He carefully stood up from the bed and wrapped his arm around Tonks' waist.

Tonks looked rather torn. She leaned over Eva and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "If you need anything—_anything—_we'll just be in my quarters," she said quietly. "I'll be back to check on you in an hour or so. Dobby will be here if you need anything."

"And so will I."

Harry couldn't take it anymore and stepped into the room. Tonks gasped. Eva's eyes flew open at the sound of his voice. "H-Harry, what are you doing here?" Eva whispered.

"You shouldn't be here right now," Tonks interrupted.

He stepped into the room. "Yes," he said sadly, "I should."

"He's right," Remus said huskily. He tightened his grip around Tonks' waist. "Leave them be." Tonks hesitated at first, but then Remus led her out the door, closing it behind them. The room was immersed in darkness, except for a lamp on the nightstand that seemed to be dimming by the second.

As Harry approached her, he saw that her breathing was better now. Her skin, too, had more color, but not much. She didn't move or speak; she just stared at him. Harry wanted more than anything to touch her, but he was afraid she would break.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have spent the night before bullshitting with his buddies instead of spending his time with her? He didn't want to know what she was thinking when he didn't show last night. He didn't want to imagine how she dreaded the full moon. It was something that she went through every single month. Every single cycle. This was her life now.

In on fluid motion Harry got onto the floor, kneeling in front of her. Not able to help himself, he reached out and touched her face. She felt very feverish. "Eva," he whispered. "I'm so sorry…" He felt a tear trickle from his eye and roll down his cheek, and no one was more surprised than he was. "I've been such a fool. I should have come to you yesterday. Hell, I should have come to you weeks before that."

He was expecting silence from her. He was expecting a slap in the face. But instead, her lips curved into a small, confident smile. "It's all right," Eva said as she reached and stroked the side of his face with her shaking hand. "I knew you would come 'round."

Harry took her hand away from his face and drew it to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles. "That's the thing. You have faith in me. I realized something in the time we've been apart. It's not that I don't believe in you; I don't believe in anyone. Ever since Sirius died, I've lost faith. But I'm going to try, Eva. I swear to you, I'm going to try."

Eva shook her head. "I'm sorry too, Harry. I didn't mean to make you mourn for your godfather again. I knew I was being too harsh." She sat up in the bed. "I was just blowing things out of proportion. It had been a crazy night. I thought I lost everything that mattered, but I didn't know how close I was to losing the one person who matters most to me." She looked at him with damp, glowing eyes. "Harry, you're the one I love. You're so much more important to me than a job or a broken friendship."

Harry got up from the floor and sat on her bed, longing to be near her again. Eva carefully swung her legs around to the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around Harry's waist. She sighed contently as he reached around and rubbed her back. "Can… can we go somewhere else?"

"Somewhere else?" Harry questioned.

Eva let go of him and nodded. "This room… it gives me the creeps. I can still feel the awful magic in the air. I can still taste the damn potion Snape feeds me."

Harry nodded. "Of course. Do you want to go back to my room? Do you think you can make it?"

"Aye," she said quietly. "But I ought to get dressed first." She glanced at Harry bashfully, and carefully got to her feet.

Harry tried not to stare, even though only a month ago more than his eyes had been ravaging her body, but he was afraid that if he watched her, he would be damaging her dignity. However, she didn't even seem to notice his eyes upon her. She was trying desperately hard to manipulate her body so she could get dressed. She was able to pull on her underclothes and a pair of sweat pants, but when she finally managed to pull the button-up shirt around her shoulders, she plopped back down on the bed, exhausted. Her fingers trembled as she tried to button her shirt.

He watched her struggle for a few moments until he couldn't take it anymore. "Here, let me help," Harry said quietly. He stepped forward and leaned over, gently tugging the two sides of the shirt together. He could feel Eva's warm breath against his cheek and see her chest move with every inhalation. His fingertips accidentally brushed against her flesh and she shivered. He fumbled with the buttons nearly as much as she did before he finally managed to close them. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to be so close to her. Before pulling away, he wiped her hair away from her forehead and kissed it. She was still on fire.

"I-I used to bounce back a lot quicker," Eva said quietly. "The first time, anyway. Now I go through it all and… Well, I never really know how it's going to turn out." She gave a small smile and closed her eyes tightly. "I think I'm ready now."

Harry nodded. Eva scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up, quite wobbly, and then Harry quickly offered her a shoulder to lean on. He grabbed his bag and the Marauder's Map and helped Eva out of the room.

"Where's the cloak?" Eva asked.

"Forgot it," Harry muttered, "but don't worry. I've got the map. It'll be all right."

By the time they got out of the kitchen and to the top of the stairs, he was practically dragging Eva with him. She was still out of breath and seemed to be growing weaker with every step. "Maybe… I shouldn't have come," she whispered. "Perhaps we ought to turn back. I don't think I can make it up to Gryffindor Tower."

Harry didn't say it out loud, but he didn't even think she could make it back down into the kitchen again. "Let's go to the Room of Requirement," he replied.

"Where?"

"The room where we spent Valentine's Day." He adjusted her arm around his shoulders and braced himself for the long walk ahead. He studied the map, hoping to find the connecting staircase that would let them bypass a few floors. They were in luck.

Just as Harry and Eva stepped foot onto the floor where the Room of Requirement was, he noticed some movement on the map. The name that was moving swiftly toward them made Harry's stomach twist into a knot.

_Draco Malfoy_.

How could it be? Harry hadn't exactly been staring intently at the map, but how could Draco have just suddenly appeared on the map, let alone on the same floor? But he had bigger things to worry about. Malfoy was headed straight for them.

Harry cursed. "Somebody's coming. Here," he hissed, gesturing to a statue, "get behind this." He gently pushed Eva into the corner. It was dark. Perhaps he wouldn't see. Harry glanced one last time at the map with Malfoy still headed directly towards them, then snuffed out his wand. Harry stood in front of Eva, flattening himself between the statue and the wall. Maybe Draco hadn't seen the glow of his wand. Maybe he would just walk right by and completely miss them.

He could hear Malfoy's footsteps echo throughout the corridor. They got louder as he got closer, but also further apart. He was slowing down. The glow of his wand reflected on the iron statue and along the portraits that were still sleeping peacefully. As Malfoy approached them, Harry could see his pale face in the dim light. Those beady eyes, that beak of a nose. Harry didn't know evil could be so ugly.

Draco slowly stepped past them, but as he did, Harry heard Eva gasp softly. Malfoy turned on his heel, his wand outstretched and pointed in the direction of the sound, and Harry felt the tip of it stabbing his nose. He was a bit on edge.

However, his tension faded as he recognized Harry. The light was too dim for him to see Eva, and Harry was doing the best he could to cover her up. She couldn't be caught with him—it would be disastrous.

"Well, well, well. Out after curfew, Potter?" Draco snickered. "Twenty-five points from…"

Harry was suddenly pushed aside from behind as Eva forced her way into the light and had her hands aiming for Draco's throat. "_You_!" she screamed. "You son of a bitch! I'll kill you!"

Draco jumped backwards just in time to dodge Eva's assault. Confused, Harry held her back, trying to restrain her. Her arms were wild as she cried out and tried to get a hold of Malfoy.

Malfoy's face, if possible, grew even paler. He looked as though he'd seen a ghost. "You…" he whispered. Without any explanation, he backed away from both of them, nearly tripping over his robes. Malfoy turned around and ran away.

Harry watched in shock. "What the bloody hell…?"

Eva struggled against his grip. "Harry, let me _go_! Please Harry! Let me go!" she cried. "I'll rip him apart with my bare hands!"

"But…how do you…? How do you know him?"

"Harry, please," she pleaded. "Please, let me go. Please…" She turned to him, her eyes filled with despair. "Harry… please…" Her voice trailed off.

Harry was suddenly hit with a flash of a memory. Not his—Eva's. She was standing in a kitchen somewhere, a Muggle kitchen. It all looked familiar. It smelled familiar. There was a knock on the door. The woman in the room—he could only see her from the back—went to go answer the door. Then she screamed.

Harry had been there before.

He snapped back into reality as he realized that he was no longer holding Eva back, but supporting her. She had stopped struggling. "Eva, what is this all about?" he questioned.

She collapsed against him. Harry could feel wetness as her cheek brushed against his own. She was crying. "Please, Harry. Take me away from here."

Harry picked her up and carried her back and forth along the corridor, trying to think of things that could be put in the room to make Eva feel better. But all he could think about was what had just happened. Eva would have been perfectly hidden behind him—Draco would have never known—but she had stomped out in front of him. Why? How in the hell did she know Malfoy?

There was a flash of light on the wall as a rectangular door frame appear, illuminated by whatever sort of magic made the room work. Harry quickly pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was much smaller than Valentine's Day. Inside, there was a single love seat with a heavy afghan draped over the back. The only light in the room was from a fireplace that quietly crackled in the corner. He set Eva down in a standing position and put the Marauder's Map into his bag and dropped it on the floor. He slipped his wand into his pocket and sat down. The sofa wasn't even that nice. Harry briefly wondered why there was only a couch. Why not a bed? A comfortable one, instead of a rickety loveseat. Then he realized why.

Eva was trembling in front of the fireplace. Harry beckoned her to him. She stumbled towards him and sat down next to him, and he wrapped his arms around her, molding into a protective shield around her body. She needed him. She needed to be close to him. This was what Eva required.

_ A/N: Sorry if that was too sickeningly romantic for anyone to handle. Gotta have that stuff once in a while, you know? _


	52. A Licensed Betrayal

**CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO**

**A Licensed Betrayal**

Harry pulled the blanket off the back of the seat behind them and draped it around Eva. She was still sobbing softly. He tried to soothe her. He rubbed her back, he kissed her tears, he pulled her closer to him every time she seemed to be slipping away. But he just had to ask. He had to find out. Maybe it would be better if she talked about it.

"How do you know him?" he questioned softly.

Granted, he'd rarely met anybody who had met Malfoy and not wanted to kill him. But that was only witches and wizards. Eva was a Muggle. The Malfoys wouldn't even associate themselves with Muggles, let alone recognize one from the other. Clearly, Draco had recognized her.

He had to know. "How do you know Draco Malfoy?" he asked again.

Eva's face was buried against his chest, but when she mumbled her reply, she was so close to Harry that he could hear her. "I… I don't. Not really." She glanced up at him. "He… he…"

Perhaps it was the magic of the room or because of how close they were, but somehow, it only took one small glance for Harry to see what she couldn't say.

Eva was in a room—a bathroom—peering between the door and the frame out into a kitchen. She could hardly see anything, just a boy pointing a stick at her mother. She heard a man's voice shouting.

"_Do it boy! Do it now! Are you a coward! KILL HER!"_

The boy shouted words that she couldn't understand. A green light erupted from the tip of his stick and shot straight to her mother. In one horribly silent moment, her mother's body fell to the floor. Eva knew she was dead. She could see there was no life left in her eyes.

Her little sister was in the bathroom with her, and up until now Eva had been covering her ears. The little girl was about to scream, but she covered her mouth just in time. They had to get out of the house. They had to run away before that boy turned his stick on them.

"_The evidence is still here. It needs to be disposed of."_

The older man—the boy's father—marched up the stairs of their small house, hunting them. His long, pointy nose even seemed to sniff like a bloodhound's.

Her little sister was whimpering. She could hear whispers of her mother. Somehow, she gathered her strength. She had to keep herself together or they would both wind up dead.

Quickly, she quietly closed the bathroom door. She got down on one knee so that she was eye-level with her sister and whispered into her ear.

"_You need to be brave now, Nora. I need you to stop crying. Don't make a sound. We're getting out of here."_

She sprang for the bathroom window which was right above the countertop. It would be barely big enough for her to fit through. She stepped up onto the counter and quietly opened the window. One of the hinges squeaked, but the sound only made her move faster. Her little sister was still standing by the doorway, motionless.

"_Come here."_

She held out her arms to the little girl. In one swift motion she pulled her from the floor and pushed her out the window. However, as she lifted her leg off the countertop to pull herself out of the window, she knocked over a canister of bath beads. The metallic container hit the floor with a loud crash and the beads rolled across the floor. It was as loud as thunder.

The door flew open. The boy who slaughtered her mother stood there with his wand raised. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't scream.

She was dead.

"_Run."_

She didn't believe him at first. She was frozen on the spot, with her hands on the window frame, leading to the only chance to save herself and her sister. However, she didn't need telling twice. With one last glare into the boy's beady eyes she hoisted herself out of the bathroom window and hit the ground running.

She had not slowed since.

Harry was shaking with absolute fury. He had never made the connection before. The night of the Yule Ball during fourth-year, on Christmas Eve, Malfoy's first kill was Eva's mother. How could he not have recognized Nora's eyes in her Muggle mother? Or the curly hair that fell over her face the same way Eva's did?

If Eva was not still in his arms, he would have chased after Malfoy himself. He would have made no hesitation in using any sort of curse on that bastard. He didn't even deserve to live. He had taken away their mother, a perfectly harmless Muggle.

The more Harry thought about how innocent Eva's and Nora's mother was, the more he realized that the murder had been planned. Lucius Malfoy walked in—somehow—on Draco's night with Pansy and told him he would become a real man that night. He would perform his first Muggle kill.

And what had stopped Draco from killing Eva and Nora? Did he dare think it was _mercy_? Was Draco feeling guilty for killing their innocent mother and let them go because there was some, small piece of good in his heart?

No. There had to be another reason.

He was also bothered by the way Lucius spoke of the sisters. They were "evidence." Evidence of what? What was the link between Lucius and their mum?

Eva had finally stopped whimpering in his arms. Her breathing had returned to normal. Harry could feel her heartbeat against his own chest. She was asleep.

Harry tried to fight the exhaustion that was overpowering him, but it was no use. His eyes fluttered shut, and despite his anger, he dosed off. When he woke up, the room was no longer pitch black but seemed to be lit from an imaginary light source on the ceiling.

He checked his watch. It was 11:30 in the morning. He'd slept right through Potions and Eva was due back down in the dungeon in thirty minutes, and he still didn't have his invisibility cloak.

And he still wanted answers from Eva.

She stirred in his arms when he moved to check his watch. Her eyes were still filled with rage and confusion, he could see it.

Harry decided to speak first. "I know what he did," he said simply. "I know Malfoy killed your mum."

Eva stared at him. "How do you…?"

"I can't tell you how I know," Harry interrupted. "But I know. I always assumed that he was a horrible bastard of a wizard, but I never thought…" His voice trailed off. "What I don't understand is why. Why did Draco Malfoy kill your mum?"

Eva sighed. Harry could feel how desperate she was. How furious. "Harry, there's something that you don't know…"

Suddenly, the door to the Room of Requirement flew open and ricocheted against the wall with a loud bang. Ron and Hermione burst inside, both looking very distressed and equally irate. "Harry! We've been looking for you all morning!" Hermione cried. "Oh… Hello, Eva." Hermione studied her, a foreigner in the midst of the school, very closely.

Whatever Eva was about to say, whatever secret she was about to confess, disappeared off her tongue. Harry saw that he'd lost his chance. It was as though he'd opened something up inside of her, and now the interruption had closed it off again. The moment was lost.

Eva gave a little wave. "Hello, Hermione. Nice to see you again. You too, Ron."

Ron looked sheepishly at Harry and shrugged his shoulders, almost as a sign of apology. Harry could tell that he thought that they had walked in on something romantic. He swiped his fingers through his red hair and put his hand on the back of his neck. "You missed Potions," Ron said. "Dumbledore is looking for you. We all thought something terrible had happened."

_Something did_, Harry thought. "I'm fine," he replied. "I don't care about Potions. Some things are more important." He glanced at Eva, who looked a little red in the face.

"Dumbledore wants to see you immediately. He's furious, Harry," Hermione added. "You really shouldn't keep him waiting."

"I've got to get Eva back to where she belongs," Harry replied. "Then I'll go see him. But I need a favor."

"A favor?" Hermione questioned.

"I need the two of you to run up and get my invisibility cloak. It's in my trunk," Harry said.

Hermione looked as though she was going to protest, but Ron tugged on her arm. "C'mon, 'Mione. Let's go."

"But why do _both_ of us need to go?" she asked. Ron gave a nod to Harry and pulled her out of the room with him.

Harry turned to Eva, very serious. "This conversation isn't over," he said. "You've got to explain. What don't I know?"

Eva got up from the couch and began folding the afghan she'd been wrapped in. She wouldn't look him in the eye. "There's not enough time to explain, Harry. I've got to get back to the kitchen and you've got to see Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore can wait," Harry said. "Eva, you have got to tell me what's going on."

"I will," she said. "I promise. But you're just going to have to wait." She laid the afghan over the back of the loveseat. Harry pulled her down onto the couch next to him, so that one of her knees was on either side of his lap. "You've just got to trust me this time. Please, Harry."

Harry felt the guilt of their fight and the ordeal with David wash over him. He had no choice. He had to trust her. He owed it to her. Besides, he would be able to find out the whole story in a matter of days. It was Eva's birthday on the same day as their trip to Hogsmeade. Before they got into the spat, they were planning on spending all day and all night together, celebrating. Harry could wait a few days—and do his own investigation. "Eva, you've just got to be careful. Now that Malfoy knows you were here…"

"I know how to take care of myself," she snapped. She put her hands on his shoulders. "But Harry, you've got to promise me that you'll watch over Nora. Please, whatever you do, don't let her out of your sight. You have to protect her. I have half a mind to steal her right now and take her away."

"She's safe here," Harry said. "Dumbledore's here. And I won't let anything happen to her. I promise."

Eva smiled meekly. She leaned forward and kissed him, and Harry eagerly kissed her back. He didn't know what was so intoxicating about her that drove him crazy, but he couldn't keep his hands off of her. He tried to keep them positioned firmly around her waist, but they tended to travel both upwards and downwards as his mouth continued to search hers. He could feel the coarse cloth of the buttoned shirt she was wearing and the softness of her skin beneath. Before he could stop himself, he'd popped the top button off and started working on the next.

"Ahem," Ron said, standing at the doorway and pretending to clear his throat. Hermione stood next to him, shocked.

Eva quickly got off of Harry's lap and crossed her arms over her chest, pulling the neck of her shirt together where the button had popped off. She was blushing furiously.

"H-here's the invisibility cloak," Hermione said, handing him the silver cloak. She looked from Harry to Eva and back again. "Harry, I don't think…"

"I'll explain it all later," Harry interjected. "After I see Dumbledore."

Dumbledore was already in the kitchen with Remus, waiting for Eva to arrive before noon. Harry had rarely seen him so angry. After Remus and Eva left, he brought Harry up the back stairs to the hidden room where he had his Legilimency training.

"Harry, I don't believe you understand the seriousness of your situation. If the two of you were found out, there's no telling what sort of danger you'd be in. What you did was _extremely_ irresponsible. Letting you see Eva here is a privilege, and one that I won't hesitate to take away."

Harry hung his head. He sat in the over-sized chair across from Dumbledore's desk and tried to look as guilty as possible. He felt horrible for abusing his privilege to see Eva, but it was a circumstance that couldn't be helped. Even if Dumbledore refused to let him see her anymore, he'd find a way to get to her. Especially now that he knew Malfoy had killed her mum.

"You were very lucky, Harry. And despite the fact that you've promised to never do it again, I must punish you. You must learn that not all rules are made to be broken."

He glanced up at Dumbledore. His face looked old and worn-out. He had enough to worry about without having to deal with Harry's skiving. "Yes, sir."

"And unfortunately, because the class you chose to miss was Potions, you'll be spending the evening in detention with Professor Snape."

"But sir…" Harry began. He hadn't been alone with Snape since before Christmas. If he was in a room alone with him it would be difficult for Harry to contain his emotions and keep his part of the deal.

"I'm sorry, Harry. You'll just have to be more responsible. Learn from this mistake."

Harry sighed, defeated. He got up from his chair, wincing and sore from sleeping with Eva in his arms all night.

"Hold on, Harry. I'm not finished with you yet." The spark came back into Dumbledore's eyes. "How is your investigation going?"

He sat back down again. "We've decided to use Polyjuice Potion, sir," he answered. "I'm not exactly sure who I am going to be yet, but the potion will be ready in the next few days."

"I see." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Do you know what you are looking for in him yet?"

"Not exactly," Harry replied. "I need to know about the owls, certainly." And what he was up to last night that he was on the seventh-floor corridor in the early morning hours, and why he killed Eva and Nora's mother.

"Mr. Malfoy will not give his answers out to just anyone, Harry. Think carefully of who you're going to portray," Dumbledore warned. He paused. "It's nearly time for afternoon classes."

Harry glanced at his watch. He was due in Transfiguration in ten minutes. "Yes, sir." Harry got up from his chair and headed towards the door that led back down to the kitchen. He had to double-back down and then go to McGonagall's class.

"Be careful, Harry."

"I don't care if I have to be a girl, even if I have to be Pansy Parkinson!" Harry cried. "I'm going to do it. I've got to change into the right person so that Malfoy will spill his guts to me."

He, Ron, and Hermione were in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Hermione was near the cauldron, tending to the Polyjuice Potion. She was a regular expert at it by now. Ron was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, watching Harry pace back and forth.

"Perhaps there are other options," Hermione suggested. "What about Crabbe or Goyle?"

"They're too stupid," Harry replied. "Malfoy stopped trusting them long ago."

"And who really wants to become one of them again, anyway?" Ron questioned. "Mangy gits."

"Are you sure that Malfoy even trusts Pansy?" Hermione asked. "Just because he was snogging her after the Yule Ball and the two of them are quite the item this year doesn't mean that he's telling her his deep, dark secrets."

"You're right," Harry agreed, secretly relieved that he would not look in the mirror and see Pansy's horrid reflection staring back at him.

"What about Michael Corner?" Ron said. He balled one hand into a fist and pounded it into the other. Harry told him about his plans for Ginny. Ron went crazy. It took a lot of restraint on Harry's part to keep him from strangling Michael. "He seems to have taken a turn for the dark side, that bastard."

Harry sighed. "No, I don't think Michael would work either. Malfoy doesn't trust him anymore after he gave him the wrong owl potion." He paused. "There's got to be someone who he trusts. Someone who he talks to. It's not his dad."

He frowned. He had to find out who Malfoy confided in before he told someone about seeing Eva. He was surprised that he hadn't told Dumbledore or that the word was out. What was Malfoy waiting for?

"The potion is ready whenever we are," Hermione said, eyeing the cauldron with great disgust. "We've just got to decide who to impersonate."

"It will have to wait," Harry replied. "I've got detention in a bit. I'm sure Snape has missed working with me since Christmas."

"That's it!" Hermione cried.

"What is?" Ron asked.

"Harry, didn't you say that Dumbledore told you that Draco was having private lessons with Snape?" she asked.

He nodded. "Of course! Why didn't I think of it before? I'll be Snape!"

"Disgusting," Ron said. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather be Pansy?"

"Look, turning into Snape isn't exactly my wildest dream," Harry replied. "But Hermione's right. He's obviously the best choice. He's an adult figure who Draco looks up to. He's a Death Eater, he's the potions master, and he's his head of house."

"And that means you can collect something off him tonight," Hermione said, "during your detention."

"Yes! Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed. He had never looked more forward to a detention with Snape in his life.


	53. Secrets Revealed

**CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE**

**Secrets Revealed**

He was embracing someone. Her hair was dark red and soft and smelled good. It was a smell he recognized from long ago, a smell that had long been buried in his subconscious. It was his mother. She was shaking in his arms.

When had this memory taken place? Harry searched for clues. The room looked familiar. Pale blue walls, dark hardwood floors. It was comforting, tranquil. He stared at Snape's hands that gathered around his mother shoulders in disgust. They were weathered—not young. This memory had not taken place during their schooling years at Hogwarts.

He heard a gurgling sound and turned his head. On top of a thick blanket on the floor was a baby with dark hair and green eyes. An infant. He made fists with his hands and kicked in the air, smiling happily. It was him. He had no scar.

His hands coiled in his mother's soft hair as he pulled her face to his own and kissed her tender lips.

Shocked, Harry stumbled backward. He was suddenly thrown back into reality—the darkness of the dungeon, the moldy smell of the walls, and the sickening sneer of Severus Snape.

"I told Dumbledore you would be a hopeless case. No concentration, no dedication to the art of Legilimency. I told him you wouldn't even be able to tell if someone was lying. Cleary," he muttered, "I was mistaken."

Harry could taste something fowl in his mouth and wished he could spit. Why on earth was Snape kissing his mother—on the lips, no less—when his father was clearly still alive and he was only a baby? He could feel the knots in his stomach twisting tightly. He felt he was going to be sick.

"I feel it is my duty to teach you yet another valuable lesson…"

"How generous," Harry snapped.

Snape smiled even broader. "Not everything you see when using Legilimency is pleasant. Every bit of information, every image, every scent, is a burden."

Harry definitely didn't need Snape to tell him that. "Why were you kissing her?"

"And not every image has an explanation," Snape went on. "Indeed, Legilimency creates more questions than answers." He smiled knowingly and raised his wand. "A duel," he said. "Again."

Livid, Harry lifted his wand. Snape opened his mouth, about to speak or perhaps speak an incantation. Harry, in his fury, yelled at the top of his lungs. "_Expelliarmus!_"

The spell was so powerful that it sent Snape flying backward into the wall. His head smashed against a bookcase and Harry saw his eyes roll into the back of his head as his motionless body hit the floor. He was out cold.

Harry took a moment to catch his breath. First he found out about Eva's mum, and now he was finding things out about his own. Knocking Snape out was somewhat satisfying, but it only dulled the rage inside of him for a moment. He quickly rushed over to the Potionmaster's lifeless form and plucked a few greasy hairs from his head and tucked them inside his robe.

That ought to keep him out of Harry's way for a while.

Harry raced to the Gryffindor common room and caught Ron and Hermione just before they were about to go to bed.

"We need to use the potion _now_," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Now?" Ron consulted his watch. "It's so late."

"How long do you suggest I hold onto his greasy hair?" Harry questioned. "Also, right now, I know where Snape is, so there's no way there will be two of us wandering the halls of Hogwarts."

"What did you do to him?" Hermione said suspiciously.

"There was a bit of a collision with his head and one of his cabinets. He's out cold."

"What if he wakes up?" she asked.

"The first thing he'll do is take something for the pain," Harry said with a grin. "Then he'll probably march straight to Dumbledore's office asking for my immediate suspension. I doubt he'll be looking around for Malfoy. I'll run up and get the cloak and the map."

Harry didn't mention that the sooner he took the Polyjuice Potion, the sooner he'd be able to get some answers from Malfoy about Eva's mother. Harry tried to swallow back his rage. If he was going to get anything out of Malfoy, he'd have to act like Snape. He'd have to treat Malfoy like his star pupil. He would have to treat him like he didn't want to kill him just as he had killed the innocent Muggle.

He returned to the common room with the two objects in a bag. Hermione and Ron were on the couch, sharing an issue of _The Daily Phrophet_. Things seemed quite natural between them—conversation was no longer forced or filled with angry tones. Perhaps it was because of what they had witnessed between Harry and Eva and missed being in one another's arms.

Or perhaps it was just too late to keep quarrelling.

"Now for my favorite part," Harry said as he sat between them and took out the current Muggle fiction book they were reading in Muggle Studies. "The waiting."

It was only another thirty minutes before the common room was empty, but it felt like an eternity to Harry. He kept reading the same sentence of _Pride and Prejudice_ over and over again.

He stood up and checked around the room, making sure no one was around. He took the invisibility cloak out of his bag and motioned for Ron and Hermione to join him beneath it. With the Marauder's Map in one hand and his wand in the other, Harry led the way out of the common room.

"_Lumos_," he whispered as they stumbled through the darkened hallway. Most of the portraits were already asleep, some snoring loudly, some snoozing soundlessly. Harry was getting more and more anxious by the minute.

He suddenly remembered the look of terror on little Nora's face at the beginning of the year when Malfoy came over and accused Harry of being a cradle-robber. She had immediately asked for his protection. Nora obviously knew that Malfoy was evil.

On the other hand, Malfoy did not recognize Nora. His reaction to seeing Eva was one of fear. He was positive that Malfoy had identified Eva from the night of his first kill. Why one sister but not the other? Nora was the first one out the window. Perhaps Malfoy never saw her.

Harry knew it was a miracle that both the sisters were still alive. If Draco hadn't let them go, Lucius would have killed both of them that night.

"We passed it!" Hermione hissed. "Harry, Moaning Myrtle's bathroom is _that_ way…"

"Oh, right, sorry," Harry said. He back-tracked down the hallway and opened the door a crack so that Ron and Hermione could fit inside.

Once the door was shut, they removed the cloak and lit some candles. Harry could smell the nasty Polyjuice Potion as he handed Hermione the tuft of Snape's greasy hair he'd plucked.

"I can't believe you're going through with this," Ron said with a groan, looking as though he was going to be sick. "Whatever information you're trying to get out of Malfoy, it must be pretty damned important to go to such incredible lengths."

"You have no idea," Harry said with a sad smile.

The two of them watched as Hermione spooned up a goblet-full of the potion. She carefully put Snape's hairs in the cup and then mixed it all together with the spoon. "Better that you're not able to see it when you drink it, I think," she explained. "You'll only have an hour once you drink this. You'll have to track Malfoy down and get your answers."

Harry nodded.

"And remember to act like a stupid git so that Malfoy believe you're truly Snape," Ron added. "When Malfoy kisses up to you, pretend you don't notice. And when he does something wrong, make sure you blame the nearest Gryffindor. And after he's done blowing smoke up your ass, you'll want to…"

"I get the picture, Ron." Harry sighed. "What am I going to wear?"

"Is Cinderella getting ready for the ball?" asked an eerie, all-too familiar voice.

Hermione sighed. "Myrtle, I thought we had a deal. You weren't to bother us when we're in here as long as one of us comes to clean the place up once a week."

"Oh dear, I know, but I just couldn't resist when Harry comes 'round," she said with a delicious squeal and floated out of one of the nearby stalls. "Who is it you're turning into this time?"

Harry sighed. There was no use hiding it from her. Maybe if they were cooperative with her, she would be cooperative with them. "Professor Snape."

"How gloriously disgusting. Did you know that he has seven robes that are exactly the same, one for every day? He only washes them every two weeks…"

"Thanks, Myrtle, but I don't think we need to know the grimy details of Snape's life," Ron interrupted.

"I just thought I'd mention that tonight he decided to soak one of his robes in the staff bathroom on the floor below us."

"Excellent," Hermione said. "All we'd have to do is sneak down there and get it."

"But we're running out of time," Harry said. "It might take too long. And what if someone else is using it? Ron's just as tall as Snape—couldn't we use his robe and just rip the Gryffindor patch off?"

"And ruin a perfectly good hand-me-down?" Ron asked. "Well, actually…"

"I think Ron's robe is too well-kept," Hermione replied. "We've got to make sure Malfoy doesn't get suspicious. Myrtle, can't you tell us whether someone's using it?"

"Certainly," the ghost replied. "But I'm afraid it's going to cost you."

_Here it comes_, Harry thought. "What do you want in return?"

"I want to go to the next feast in the Great Hall," Myrtle said, "and I want to be escorted by Harry."

Ron started giggling like a little school girl and Hermione's mouth dropped open. "You mean like a… a…" He could barely get the word out of his mouth. "A date?"

Myrtle moaned loudly and shot up towards the ceiling. "If you're all just going to laugh at me then I can rat you out right now."

"No, Myrtle, I'll do it." Harry would do anything, just as long as it got him closer to the truth. "But… why?"

"None of the other ghosts take me seriously," she replied. "I never show my face in the great hall because all they do is laugh at me. They say I'm not mature enough to be invited to their death day parties or on their outings. How can I get any more mature? I can't get any older; I'm dead!"

"And how is Harry escorting you to a feast in the Great Hall going to change things?" Hermione asked.

"Can you imagine the looks on their faces when they see that I have a real, live, breathing friend? And that it's Harry Potter? The gossip itself should be enough to get me invited to their next party."

"No offense, Myrtle, but I thought you liked to be alone and… moan," Harry said.

"I do," she replied indignantly. "But sometimes, it's nice to have company."

"Aww…" Ron cooed. "I think she's grown right attached to us. Particularly you, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes and muttered, "Lucky me." He focused his attention on Myrtle. "Do you know the password?"

The ghost nodded. "_Gullible, gloating Gryffindors_." It must have been Snape's private bathroom. "And it is currently empty. If you hurry, I'm sure you'll make it in and out before Professor Snape comes to retrieve his laundry."

"He won't be doing that for a while. Ron, will you run and get it?" Harry questioned. He had been eyeing the bubbly concoction with Snape's hair in it. It was going to take some serious mental strength to swallow it.

Ron nodded and, with the invisibility cloak and map in hand, quickly hurried downstairs. Myrtle flew through the pipes to ensure that the coast was clear for Ron. He returned minutes later, out of breath.

"I feel like I know Snape much too intimately. Did you know he uses Little Lucy's Lemony Laundry Soap?" Ron asked as he put the slopping wet robe in the sink.

Ignoring his comment, Hermione laid the robe out on the floor. "I'll use a heat charm to dry it." She muttered an incantation that blew warm heat on the garment, then turned it over to dry the back. After a few minutes, she picked it up from the floor and handed it to Harry. "It's still a little damp, but I'm afraid I'd start it on fire if I dried it any more."

Harry nodded. The robe was warm in his hands. His stomach was churning. He really dreaded the idea of walking around, quite literally, in Snape's shoes for the next hour, but what else could he do? Snape was surely the only one who Malfoy would confide in. He seemed to trust Snape more than his own father lately, and it was the only way to get to the bottom of what happened that Christmas Eve two years ago.

Harry walked over to the counter where the goblet filled with Polyjuice Potion. With a meaningful glance at Hermione and Ron, he plugged his nose and lifted the goblet to his lips, then drank as much of the potion as he could be fore he felt his gag reflexes kicking in.

Harry ran into the bathroom, about to be sick, with thoughts of, _I'm drinking Snape's hair! I'm drinking Snape's hair!_ running through his mind at full speed. He swallowed a few times and broke out into a profuse sweat. He could feel the room around him changing and he closed his eyes, not wanting to watch the horror as he changed into the professor who had made many nights of his life a living hell.

When he opened his eyes, he pretended not to notice that his skin was much paler, or that his nose was so long that he could nearly see the tip of it. He managed to get off his Hogwarts robes, then realized he forgot Snape's robe outside the bathroom stall.

"Hey, 'Mione, can you hand me Snape's robe?" He realized that his voice was different. It wasn't his; it was Snape's.

"That is absolutely spooky," Ron said with a shiver. "I don't think you should call her 'Mione when you're like that."

Hermione threw the robe over the stall door. Harry quickly put the robe on and opened the door. Hermione and Ron gasped at the sight of him. Moaning Myrtle giggled.

"I say, you three are going to get into _so_ _much_ trouble for this." She flew up in the air and twirled around and then dove into the toilet in Harry's stall, splashing him.

"I'm glad someone finds this funny," Harry said grumpily.

After some last minute reminders from Hermione and Ron, Harry went down to the first floor where he remembered the entrance to the Slytherin common room was. He was hoping that Malfoy would already be there and Harry wouldn't have to wander the dormitories looking for him. The truth was that he could get away with it because he was, after all, their Head of House, and had the task of checking up on them anyway.

It was so eerie to walk around at Snape's height with his long, greasy hair covering his eyes with every step he took. Harry tried not to take note of any of the physical features of his body and just keep it all in his mind. How would Snape walk? How would he talk? What would his expression be?

Harry found the Slytherin common room and skulked in using what he thought was Snape-like fashion. The heavy polished oak door slammed shut behind him. Malfoy, thankfully, in the common room alone, and shot up from his seat in one of the leather chairs that adorned the wicked room.

"Professor, I've been looking for you everywhere! I even went to your classroom, but you were gone." Malfoy approached him quickly, his white-blonde hair shining in the light of the fireplace.

Actually, Snape was crumpled and knocked out up behind his desk. Thankfully, Draco just hadn't looked hard enough.

"What is it?" Harry snarled in a way that he'd often heard Snape speak. If Malfoy was searching for Snape past midnight, there had to be a good reason.

"It's about my father's secret," Malfoy explained. "The loose end of evidence that he never got to tie up."

There was that word again. _Evidence._ "What about it?" Harry asked. He was trying to be as surly as indifferent as possible.

"Her," Draco corrected. "I… I saw her. With _Potter_," he added. "I don't know why, but the evidence is close. She's close."

Harry studied Draco. He could feel the trust that the sixth-year student felt in Snape. Malfoy was practically displaying his mind like an open book for Harry to read. Images bombarded his head when he looked into Draco's beady eyes. However, he was searching for one particular memory from one particular night.

One flash of memory: the Yule Ball. Another: on the bed with Pansy. Harry tried to fast-forward through the events that he was already familiar with from that night until he was in Eva's Muggle kitchen, with his father spitting and shouting at him in the background. Malfoy raised his wand, shouted the incantation, and watched with a smile on his face as the woman crumpled to the ground and died.

"_The evidence! We must get rid of the evidence!"_

His father's shouts only infuriated Malfoy even more. The two girls were in the bathroom, hiding without success. But Lucius was blind to their whereabouts, too distracted by his own problems.

"_Find them!"_

Lucius disappeared upstairs as Draco quietly approached the bathroom near the kitchen. He could hear whimpering, then silence. Suddenly, there was a loud metallic clang and he pushed the door open. There was the older girl, with her damned look on her face.

"_Run."_

Draco said it simply enough. It only took a moment for it to register with the girl. He could see her bewilderment. Where had his mercy come from?

Only it wasn't mercy at all. He didn't want his father's evidence to disappear. No, Draco had planned to use it against him even then.

After the two girls disappeared out the window, his father appeared at the bathroom door.

"_You let her escape!"_

His father was furious. He needed that evidence to be gone now, before the Dark Lord reappeared again.

"_She's your half-breed daughter. Why don't _you_ go and chase after her?"_

Harry snapped back to reality. He was in the Slytherin common room, and Draco was studying him with one eyebrow raised. He looked utterly confused, which made Harry nervous. Had he blown his cover while using Legilimency on Malfoy?

Suddenly, Draco sniffed the air with his nose. "Do you smell _lemons_?"


	54. Answers

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR**

**Answers**

"She must be Potter's bloody Muggle girlfriend? How nauseating. Oh, I would love to kill her and tear them apart forever, but I'm afraid I'll have to hold off on that. The evidence must be presented to the Dark Lord…"

Malfoy was talking, but Harry wasn't listening. Eva… How could she be? Was it possible? Was she really Lucius Malfoy's daughter? He was shaking inside. Enraged. The "evidence" Lucius Malfoy was trying to dispose of was evidence of his affair with a Muggle.

The look of disgust on his face was the reaction Draco had been looking for. "I know, sir. A Muggle. How revolting. That is why the Dark Lord must know. He must know that my father betrayed his pure blood and tainted it with the blood of a Muggle."

Draco was looking at him like it was his turn to speak, but Harry didn't know what to say. "H-how did they see you?" he managed to choke out.

"Since my father took Kreacher back from Lord Voldemort, he had him send me back to Hogwarts using a different house-elf. He could only break the seal on that particular floor—I was lucky I didn't apparate in a wall somewhere. I ended up appearing right on the same floor as the two of them."

"Kreacher?" Harry questioned. But Kreacher was dead. Malfoy pushed him into an oven last summer. Unless that was just what he wanted Harry to believe. He must have known that Harry would pass it on to Dumbledore and other people opposing Voldemort. Clever bastard. Harry now realized that even with his lessons from Tonks, he had no idea what a house-elf was capable of.

"My father took him back after he returned. That damn house-elf was all to anxious to serve him. I was going to offer him to the Dark Lord for my loyalty, but now I must find something else." He paused. "I believe I'll give him our _potion_."

Harry vaguely remembered seeing Malfoy discussing the potion with Voldemort. He said something about how someone couldn't remember one of the ingredients.

"But the ingredients…" Harry began.

"I've got them. It took two deliveries and a stupid barn owl but I've got what I need. Unless you're holding out on me, professor."

Then, without warning, Harry was suddenly dragged into another memory of Malfoy's subconscious.

"_The trap is set, my Lord. The next time we meet, he will not know what hit him."_

Draco spoke with such confidence and bravery. He had no doubt that this would finally secure his place in the Death Eater circle. A potion that did the impossible and a turning in a traitor in the Death Eaters' midst. He ought to be promoted in no time.

"_Ignorant boy, do not think that this will win me over. I have known all along that he is a traitor. It is only now that I find it is a suitable time to dispose of him."_

Voldemort's voice sent chills down Harry's spine. Who was the traitor they were speaking of? Could it possibly be Snape, the one who Malfoy had called his patriarch? If he trusted Snape and then found out about his double-spying for the Order, would he turn him in?

Of course he would, Harry realized, now consciously back in the common room with Malfoy. He wouldn't hesitate to turn anyone in, flesh and blood or respected patriarch.

And whatever this potion was, it had caused a lot of trouble for Malfoy to make. His words from an earlier conversation with Voldemort echoed in Harry's mind:

"_I have seen it. I have touched it. He has told me how to create and use it. There is only one part he is not sure of, and that part I can figure out on my own."_

He didn't need the potions master anymore. "So do you believe you have it all figured out, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry questioned.

"Yes, sir. I do," Malfoy replied. Harry could tell that he was smug about something. He wasn't lying to Snape. He was cocky. Arrogant. He was going to turn him in.

Harry nodded. His head was aching. He couldn't take anymore tonight. Eva was Lucius Malfoy's daughter. Malfoy was making potions that did the impossible. Kreacher was still alive. Snape was going to be found out.

He turned away from Malfoy, wanting to retreat from this battle of the minds, but Draco shouted after him.

"Professor," he said, "what should I do about Potter and my father's evidence?"

Harry whirled around. "_Don't tell anyone_," he snapped. "Do not speak of it to a soul. Not even to me." Malfoy looked confused. "Not until we're ready," he added.

He seemed to accept these words of advice. Feeling positively wretched, Harry left the Slytherin common room and went back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom where he waited until he could turn back into himself.

Harry felt sick. Poor Eva. Is this what she was talking about when she said that there were things Harry needed to know? How could someone so beautiful be related to the Malfoys? Could the woman he loved really be their flesh and blood?

He had to report to Dumbledore, but he just didn't have the strength. But he couldn't sleep, not when he still felt so disgusting. He brought Snape's cloak back to the staff bathroom and threw it inside. Moaning Myrtle had been instructed to flood the bathroom to dispose of any evidence that the robe had been tampered with.

Harry went to the boys' room and showered. He ached for Eva. He had gotten the answers, but they were not what he wanted. Now she had some explaining to do.

By the time Harry had scrubbed himself impossibly clean, it was daybreak. He didn't want to wait another moment before telling Dumbledore everything he'd found out. Well, almost everything.

When he went to Dumbledore's office, it took awhile for the headmaster to let him in. Harry was sure that he'd woken the headmaster up and apologized profusely, but he just didn't know where to go. Dumbledore had taken the time to use the spell that covered the portraits. Dumbledore quickly ushered him into the back room where they could not be seen or heard. He must have known that Harry was coming.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry apologized again. "I just have to tell you everything while it's still fresh in my mind."

"You did the right thing, Harry. Do I dare ask how? Did you use the Polyjuice potion?" After Harry nodded, Dumbledore seemed to notice how on edge he was. "You must have found someone Mr. Malfoy trusts a great deal."

Harry swallowed back bile in his throat. He could still taste the potion. But Dumbledore did not press any further for details of how he pulled it off. With a wave of his wand, he produced two cups of tea and placed one in front of Harry. Harry took a gulp. Anything to get the taste out of his mouth.

When Dumbledore seemed to be satisfied that he was drinking the tea, the headmaster sat back in his chair and folded his long, bony fingers in his lap. "What have you come to report, Harry?"

Harry suddenly didn't know where to begin. He opened his mouth and everything came out at once. "Kreacher is alive, and Voldemort knows Snape is a traitor, and Malfoy's got some kind of potion that does impossible things…"

"Slow down. First things first," Dumbledore said soothingly. "What is this about Kreacher?"

"Malfoy told us that he killed Kreacher at the beginning of school year. But really, he claimed Kreacher for himself after his father was sent to Azkaban. He then gave the house-elf to Voldemort as a bargaining chip to become a Death Eater." Harry paused, thoughtfully. Perhaps the tea was making him think more clearly. "Are house-elves really that powerful? Can they really do all of that ancient magic? Malfoy said that a house-elf got him back to Hogwarts from wherever he was for his meeting with Voldemort."

"Harry, Hogwarts has many impenetrable defenses, but I'm afraid that anyone can get almost anywhere with a house-elf." Dumbledore looked slightly worried as he explained. "The house-elves that we have working here do more than cook and clean. They protect this entire place as well. They are very powerful beings."

Harry let the information sink in. He wondered if Hermione had read that in _Hogwarts: A History_. "When Lucius Malfoy escaped from Azkaban, he came and took Kreacher back because the elf wasn't really Malfoy's to give. So Malfoy said that he was offering Voldemort two things to replace it: a potion that does the impossible and a traitor."

When Dumbledore didn't respond, Harry continued. "I don't know what the potion is. From what I can piece together from other visions I've had from Malfoy, I know that he got it from Snape, but Snape said… He said that _you_ destroyed the ingredient list. Malfoy had to find out himself what the ingredients were.

"One of the ingredients had to be a special order. It could only be delivered by dragon, and he could only handle it with dragon-hide gloves. It was a substance from the black market—as far as Hermione can tell—so he had to have it delivered anonymously to Hogwarts. That's why he had to get the owls out of the Owlery. So Draco made the deal with Michael Corner for the… the love potion."

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. Harry felt some excitement. Finally, he was able to piece some of his visions together to form a complete picture. Dumbledore must know what the potion is if he's the one who destroyed the ingredients list. However, he made no move to explain.

"He also said he was setting a trap for a traitor. He was so smug with me, I am almost certain it's Snape," Harry said, lost in thought. "Voldemort said that he already knew that this man was a traitor. He was speaking of the same man who Malfoy called his patriarch. At first, I thought it was his father. But now… It might be Snape." Harry shook his head. "I'm really not sure, professor. Malfoy seems to think that both his father and Snape are traitors. One of them is headed for a trap at the next Death Eater meeting."

"You've certainly learned a lot from Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore replied. He began stroking his beard, and Harry could tell that his time with the headmaster was over. It was his thinking time.

Harry suddenly realized how exhausted he was. He was also grateful that Dumbledore hadn't asked why Malfoy thought his father was a traitor. Perhaps there was no need to explain the hatred in that family. He didn't have the voice to speak of his sudden knowledge of Eva's origin.

"Harry, the Order and I greatly appreciate all that you've done. You have been indispensable. I know that these assignments have taken a great toll on you and strained your relationships with your friends. Let me give you permission to relax. The Order will be busy for a while with all of the information you've given us. We are grateful for everything."

Harry drained the last of his tea as Dumbledore continued. "Harry, I'd like you to take the rest of the week off. No Legilimency, no detentions. Now, please, return to your dormitory and sleep for what few precious hours of the night are left."

He didn't need telling twice. Harry got up from his chair, groggy and aloof, and thanked Dumbledore. He left the back room and went straight out the Headmaster's office. Still reeling from the information, he made it back to the common room simply by instinct. He was so tired that he didn't bother going back to his dormitory and simply passed out on the sofa in the common room.

The next time Harry opened his eyes, there was a gray tiger-striped kitten kneading his chest with its paws, purring affectionately. Sunlight filled the common room, but from the clock on the wall, Harry could see that he'd only been asleep for a few hours. Yet he felt as though he'd slept the entire night. Had it all been a dream? Some horrible nightmare?

He was suddenly aware that the kitten was not the only one in the room. Nora was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, scribbling away on a piece of parchment. She looked up at Harry when he saw her.

"Alley likes you. She doesn't sleep with anyone else but me," she said. "And Eva."

Harry took the kitten into his arms and sat up. Alley didn't like his changed position and hopped down from the sofa. "What are you doing up?" Harry asked.

"I have to finish an assignment for Flitwick. I completely forgot about it."

He yawned. "Need any help?"

She shook her head. "I'm almost done. I stayed up late last night and finished most of it."

The common room was silent except for Nora's scribbling. Because they were alone, he had to ask. "Nora, do you know anything about Eva's father?" Harry took a deep breath and braced himself for a response.

Nora glanced up at him, looking confused. "Not really. Mum said that he was dead. If you'd want to know more, you'd have to ask her." She went back to her paper. "You know, it's her birthday Friday. She'll be eighteen."

Harry nodded. "I know."

"I'm glad my birthday is during the summer," Nora continued. "Then I can always spend it with Eva. I really miss her."

"I really miss her, too," Harry replied. It was true. At first, he hadn't known how to feel about the fact that Eva was Lucius Malfoy's daughter. She couldn't help who she was born to or who her family was—Harry knew that all too well. Eva was still the same amazing girl who he loved with all his heart. It didn't matter if she was a Malfoy or a Longbottom. He would love her just the same. And even though he'd just seen her the day before, he felt a void inside of him. It felt like weeks had past since he held her in his arms. He wanted to be with her everyday. He had always felt close to Ron and Hermione and even Sirius. But his relationship with Eva was different. He loved her.

"Nora, how would you like to see Eva on her birthday?"

Nora's eyes lit up. "I'd love to! But how?"

Harry grinned. "There's a trip to Hogsmeade on Friday. I'll find a way to smuggle you in."

Harry stumbled through his classes the rest of the day. He vaguely remembered Dumbledore giving him the week off. His thoughts were on Eva all day. McGonagall had even threatened him with an extra assignment because of his lack of attention in Transfiguration, but he didn't even have the energy to argue with her. She noticed his state of mind and gave him a warning, but he was dangerously close to spending his free time in the library looking up advanced simultaneous transfigurement of multiple inanimate objects.

He explained to Ron and Hermione what he'd found out from Malfoy the night before—all but the information about Eva's mum. Hermione was overjoyed that Kreacher was alive, until she realized what he was used for. She seemed to have mixed feelings now that she knew how powerful house-elves were.

"It's the strangest thing," Ron said, after hearing what Harry had to say, "but I remember Charlie talking about an "impossible potion" when we were kids. I don't know what kind of potion, though. I just remember that it was impossible."

Harry frowned. That was no help. "Do you think you could write Charlie a letter and ask?"

Ron nodded. "No harm in asking."

"We can all go to the library and look up impossible potions, too," Hermione said. "There's a few volumes on hypothetical potions that do impossible things in the Restricted Section."

"How would you know?" Ron asked.

Hermione produced a permission slip from her pocket. "Professor Leurre wrote me a note. I've been studying up on restricted books all term. It's been fascinating."

Ron grunted. "I bet. So what do you say? Should we have an old-fashioned research session tonight? Just like in the old days?"

"I'm going to see Eva tonight," Harry said.

"But Harry, you just saw her the other day," Hermione interrupted.

"There's something I've got to ask her."

"I don't think you should see her for a few days," Ron said. "Especially not tonight. I mean, did you look at her? _Really_ look at her?"

"What do you mean?"

"Harry, I hate to be the one tell you this," Ron said, glancing at Hermione, "but Eva looked like she was practically dying. The full moon was only two nights ago. You've got to give her time to get back on her feet. How do you even know she's back in Hogsmeade? What if she's with my parents or Remus?"

Harry didn't want to believe Ron. He needed to see her _now_. He had to ask her if it was really true—if she was really Lucius Malfoy's daughter. He could use the Moon Guide to see where she was, but he couldn't deny that she was still extremely weak.

He sighed. "You're right. I'm in. But how is that note going to get all three of us in the Restricted Section?"

Hermione looked at Harry guiltily. "It already has all three of our names on it. I told Professor Leurre it was for D.A. It was just so peaceful being in there without the two of you," she said, not looking at Ron. "I guess I shouldn't have kept it a secret until now."

Ron seemed to be mentally putting pieces together. _So that was why she's never around anymore_.

Harry coughed, hoping that it would somehow drown out his best friend's thought that he had interpreted by accident. "It's okay, Hermione. We didn't need it until now."

"Here's one that makes people to speak backwards," Ron said, holding up a book called, _Potion: Impossible_. "But the potion actually exists. I remember one time the twins got a hold of it so that they could only speak and understand each other."

"I think we need to go further into the unknown," Hermione said. "We should probably be looking more into potion theory. I mean, if the list of ingredients was in one of these books," she gestured to the pile of books containing both legal and illegal odd potions on the table, "Malfoy would have no problem getting into the restricted section and finding out what the final ingredient is himself."

"And we don't even know what the ingredients are," Ron added. "I mean, we know what substance Michael gave Malfoy to get the owls out of the Owlery, but we don't even know what kind of ingredients he was trying to get, only that it can't be touch by human flesh."

"That's true," Harry agreed. "We shouldn't be looking at complete potion recipes. It's got to be a potion that no regular wizard really knows about. We need to find the most valuable theoretical potion that would benefit Voldemort the most. That would most likely be the potion that Malfoy has." He got up form his seat and ventured to a different bookcase.

The librarian, Madam Pince, tiptoed quietly by the restricted section and scowled at the mess the trio had made. Hermione whispered an incantation, and the spines of the books lit up and then flew onto the bookcase in their original order.

Harry took out what few books he could find about non-existent potions. _A Plethora of Potions: Your Guide to the Unknown_ and _Are Potions the Key to Immortality?_ Ron came over to him and grabbed the book next to him about potions theory. "There's not a lot here."

"Three books for three curious students," Hermione said. Harry gave her the _Plethora of Potions_ book. "I guess there aren't a lot books on the subject."

"Too bad we can't get a closer look at Snape's personal library," Ron said, plopping down in one of the creaky library chairs.

"We were lucky I could even get the ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion," Hermione replied. "He has definitely upped his security since the last time we made it. I don't think it would be easy to get into his books."

Harry studied his two friends thoughtfully. "I always did like a challenge. But let's see what we can find here first." He opened his book about immortality and began scanning the pages.

It was only a few minutes before Ron looked up in disgust. "Harry, these potions are… they're evil." He gulped. "I mean, every single one mentions needing some live human body part or even an entire corpse. It's like a book of wizarding experimentation… on Muggles."

Harry was scanning his own pages. There were many theoretical potions talking about souls and life forces and other things, but nothing mentioned using Muggles. "Let me see."

Ron handed him the book. The pages were illustrated with gruesome torture scenes. Dementors were sucking out the souls of Muggles and dark wizards were capturing them before they could be absorbed by the horrible creatures. Muggles were being drained for their blood or certain tissues or organs were being harvested.

Harry felt like he was about to be sick. "I don't think… I don't think Malfoy… I would have seen if it was something like this. I didn't even realize these kinds of potions existed."

"Well, they don't," Hermione said. "They're only hypothetical." As Harry flipped through the pages, he certainly hoped so. Otherwise everyone—including Muggles—would be in danger.

"I can't imagine what Malfoy and Voldemort would want with a potion that replaces all the blood in someone's body yet still keeps them alive," Ron said with a shiver.

"Replaced the blood with what?" Hermione asked glancing at the book Harry was holding.

Harry flipped a few pages. "Anything." There were illustrations of Muggles—he guessed they were Muggles because they wore normal clothing—who were filled with various substances from liquid gold to Caribbean rum. He wanted to put the book down, but he was too stunned and curious to not keep reading. The dark side of the wizarding world had just turned an even blacker shade. He needed to know what he was up against.

"There are quite a few potions on how to cause a long and miserable death," Harry continued. Ron and Hermione had stopped looking through the other two books and stood behind him, looking over his shoulder. "One of them shows a picture of a dragon. He's carrying some kind of plant thing." He pointed to an illustration of a fire-breathing dragon with what looked like a small tree in its clutches. Harry turned the page and gasped at what he saw. There was a human body of a wizard who was standing upright with a dagger in his chest and a smile on his face. His eyes were black. "A potion to make the dead walk again." It reminded Harry of zombies from horror movies. He flipped the page. "A potion to make a werewolf stay a werewolf permanently." He shivered.

"You're sure these don't exist?" Ron asked quietly.

"I hope not," Harry replied. "I think our best bet is that Malfoy is after some way to kill people."

"Do you really think he could do it?" Ron questioned. "Could he really kill someone?"

"He lied about Kreacher," Hermione said. "I bet he's all talk. Just a coward."

"Malfoy is a coward," Harry interjected, "but he's also a murderer." He said it so seriously that both Ron and Hermione studied him with solemn eyes.

"Is there something you know that we don't?" Hermione asked.

Harry hesitated. He was tired of keeping secrets from Ron and Hermione, but he wasn't sure it was his place to tell them about what he knew. "You'll find out soon enough. Just trust me. Draco Malfoy is not above murder."


	55. A Birthday Interrogation

(A/N: Smut alert!)

**CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE**

**A Birthday Interrogation**

Harry used the Moon Guide to check up on Eva after he spent the evening in the library with Ron and Hermione. Ron was right. Eva wasn't at Hogsmeade. She was still at the Burrow. Harry saw her discussing things with Mr. Weasley, and she said she wanted to be back at the Hog's Head by Friday for her birthday. Harry took it as an open invitation to spend the day with her.

When Friday morning rolled around, Harry checked to make sure that Eva was at the Hog's Head using the moon guide. She was awake, but still in bed, reading a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ and drinking some tea. He wanted nothing more than to spend every morning like that with her—as long as she forfeited the Quidditch pages to him.

His stomach churned at the thought that she shared any sort of blood with Lucius Malfoy. Was it really possible that he was her father?

Harry got up and dressed. He had told Nora to meet him in the common room at nine in the morning, when the others were supposed to be meeting outside the Great Hall to leave for Hogsmeade. He had given Ron and Hermione instructions to tell McGonagall that he was sick and wouldn't be going. This would leave him in the clear to smuggle Nora into town.

He grabbed his satchel with the invisibility cloak and the map, along with a change of clothes and a few other items inside, and left the empty dormitory. He quietly made his way down the stairs and into the common room. Nora was sitting on the couch with another first year. Alley was in her lap and playing with the ribbon of a beautifully wrapped gift at her side.

Harry cursed under his breath. He had been so distracted the past few days that he completely forgot to get Eva a gift—again. This time there would be no magic to get him out of it. He would just have to scramble to find something when Eva wasn't paying attention.

He didn't know how he was going to make it through the entire day pretending that everything was fine when he was dying to know the truth about her past.

Nora shooed the kitten from her lap, picked up her backpack and the gift, and marched up to Harry. "I'm ready." She looked cute that morning. She was wearing a pair of light-colored slacks and a green pastel sweater that brought out the color in her eyes. She had even managed to tame some of her curly hair with a silver barrette.

"You look nice," Harry said with a smile as he casually led her out of the common room. The gray tiger-striped kitten followed after them.

"I've got to convince her that I'm fine at Hogwarts," she replied, shrugging. "I need to look presentable and all."

"Are you really fine at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, genuinely concerned.

She grinned. "Of course. I just know that she still worries." Nora chewed her lower lip, looking a lot like Eva when she was concerned about something. "Really, I think I'm more worried about her than she is about me."

Harry nodded. "I know how you feel. Follow me."

He ducked into an empty classroom and threw the invisibility cloak over both of them. After a quick explanation and some amazement on Nora's part, they took off to the third floor and to the statue of the hump-backed, one-eyed witch.

When they arrived at Honeydukes' cellar, Harry safely navigated through the crowd of Hogwarts students and out onto the street. He waited until they were a safe distance away from the crowd and closer to the Hog's Head before putting the cloak away.

"This is where she lives?" Nora questioned, looking slightly alarmed at the state of the inn. She had been mesmerized at the shops—especially Honeydukes—as they made their way to the Hog's Head.

Harry nodded. "But the people seem nice." He took a moment to run his fingers through his hair straighten the shirt he was wearing before taking Nora inside the Hog's Head.

Annabelle was behind the bar, scrubbing the top of the counter. Harry gave her a nod. The barmaid smiled. "Who's this little angel?" She came out from behind the bar and bent down to Nora's level.

"I'm Eva's sister, Nora," she replied. "How do you do?" Nora balanced Eva's gift on her hip and held out her hand to the barmaid.

Annabelle grinned, showing a gap between her two front teeth, and shook her hand. "Very well, thanks. Nice ta meet ya." She turned to Harry. "She's still upstairs. Ya can go on up and see her if ya want."

"Thanks."

The bar was empty as Harry and Nora trekked to the other side and up the stairs to Eva's room. They could hear her humming. Nora smiled. Harry could tell that she was overjoyed to hear her sister in such good spirits.

Without hesitating another minute, Nora burst through the door and shouted, "Surprise!" at the top of her lungs.

Eva squealed as she ran over to Nora, knocking the girl over as she squeezed her tightly. The towel wrapped around Eva's head fell off and landed on the hardwood floor, exposing dark, wet curls—apparently she'd just gotten out of the shower.

"Oh, Nora! What are you doing here? I missed you so much!" Eva gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I missed you, too!" Nora exclaimed. "Happy Birthday!"

"Thank you!" She hugged her sister one more time, and then approached Harry. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Harry could smell her lilac soap on her skin, beneath the brown peasant dress she was wearing. "And thank you for bringing Nora! I don't even want to know how you managed to get her here, but this is the best birthday present ever!"

"And here's another gift!" Nora said, handing her the box that she had been lugging around.

"Ooh," Eva cooed. "Should I open it now or save it?"

"Open it now," Nora said. "I can't wait until you see what it is!"

Eva took the gift and sat on her bed. She quickly tore open the shiny packaging on the rectangular box and lifted the top of the box off. Inside was a dark, soft blanket. Eva gently pulled it out of the box. Nora grabbed the bottom hem and pulled it to the foot of her bed. At first, it looked only like a pitch-black blanket. Slowly, small flecks of light started to appear on the blanket. Harry recognized a particular pattern—the Orion constellation. Eva gasped.

"It's a star chart!" she exclaimed.

Nora nodded eagerly. "Professor Sinistra showed me how to enchant it. When it's in the dark, the stars will slowly burn out. But once you put it in light, they'll glow again."

"It's gorgeous," Eva gushed. She rubbed the fabric against her cheek. "So soft, too."

Harry was hoping that he would get to find that out later on in the evening, when he had Eva to himself. As long as his curiosity didn't kill him first. He tried not to look at Eva differently, but it was hard not to. Knowing that she shared blood with the Malfoys…

But he didn't know. Not yet. If only he could ask her when Nora was around.

"…if that's alright with you, Harry."

"Hmm?" He hadn't been listening.

Eva looked at him strangely. "I said that we could have some lunch downstairs, as long as you think it's safe for all of us to be seen."

"I think we'll be safe," he said. "Not too many people from Hogwarts go to the Hog's Head."

"Excellent," Eva said. She folded up her new blanket and laid it at the foot of her bed. She stood up and tightened the cords of her dress around her waist, and then hugged her sister again. "I can't believe you're really here on my birthday."

_I can't believe that Lucius Malfoy had anything to do with your birth in the first place_, Harry thought grimly.

After a good, but somewhat distracted lunch with Eva and Nora, Harry brought the younger Finnigan sister back to Hogwarts under the cover of his invisibility cloak. He had barely touched the food in front of him during the meal, and as he dropped Nora off he could feel his stomach churning.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Nora asked. "You've been acting weird all day."

"I'm fine," Harry said quickly. Too quickly. Nora studied him with disbelief. He sighed. "I… I forgot to get a birthday gift for Eva. I've just been so busy…" It was partly the truth.

Nora seemed to buy it. "Don't worry about that. She'll understand." She paused, then gave Harry a surprising hug. "Thank you for letting me visit her today."

"You're welcome," Harry replied. "Now you'd better go make an appearance in the common room before people start to miss you." He ushered her out from behind the statue of the witch after checking that the coast was clear on the Marauder's Map.

He sighed. Now was the hard part. He was dying to know if what he thought he knew was true. But part of him wanted to go on pretending like he didn't have this new knowledge of Eva's origin. As he turned around and began his journey back to Honeydukes, he contemplated stalling some more and finding a gift for Eva. However, he knew that he would never be able to concentrate on getting her a good gift. He had to get to the bottom of this _now_.

His stomach was in knots the whole journey back to Hogsmeade. By the time he discreetly made his way out of the sweets shop, the sun was setting and Harry followed the hues of orange back to the Hog's Head. He strolled right inside, still under his invisibility cloak, and felt the eyes of the grumpy-looking old man behind the bar following him. Harry waved beneath the cloak. The old man seemed taken aback by Harry's sudden greeting. The barkeep smiled. So Abe _was_ able to see through invisibility cloaks.

Harry trampled up the stairs to Eva's room, not caring who heard him at this point. The only thing on his mind was Eva. He burst through her door and found her lighting candles around the room. She just blew out her match as Harry uncloaked himself and walked over to her.

Eva jumped. "You scared me! You're back early. I didn't even have time to change…"

Because he couldn't help it, Harry wrapped his arms around her body where the cords belted her slender waist. "You don't need to change on my account." He kissed her on the cheek. Feverishly, Eva turned her head and kissed him deeply on the mouth. She moved her hands up to his chest and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

This was already going too fast. He didn't want to ruin this moment, or her birthday, but he had to know. He had to find out before he lost his nerve. "Wait…" Harry mumbled.

Eva didn't even break away from his lips. "For what?"

"There's something you have to explain. Something I have to know." His stomach was in knots. He could feel his heart racing, and this time he was pretty sure it wasn't because of Eva. "You have to tell me what happened the night your mother died."

Eva stopped kissing him and frowned. She pushed his arms away. "It's my birthday. I don't want to talk about that," she said angrily.

Harry stood silent for a moment. Did he really want to confront her about this? But he had no other choice.

"I know you're Lucius Malfoy's daughter."

Eva turned, her blue eyes pooling with tears. "I wish you were right, Harry. I wish it was me. But it's not. It's Nora."

Harry took a step backwards, feeling like he'd just been slapped. Reeling, he took a seat on her bed. That sweet girl, who he had just dropped off back at Hogwarts, had Malfoy blood running through her veins? In the back of his mind, he was relieved—overjoyed, even—that it wasn't Eva. However, the truth did not make him feel much better.

Eva sat beside him and wiped her tears with her sleeve. "I-I wanted to tell you, but I just didn't know how. I've never told anyone before. Not even Nora."

"You mean she doesn't know…?" Harry questioned. He turned to Eva, bewildered. She reached out and squeezed his hand.

"That night, Lucius Malfoy came into our house screaming filthy mudblood. I barely understood at the time, but somehow I knew that he was Nora's father. Maybe it was something in his face, in his eyes. I don't know. But he wanted to destroy all the evidence of his affair with me mum. Nora doesn't know why his son—this Draco—killed our mum. She just knows that he did. She was too young to understand what Lucius was upset about.

"If I had known _he_ was there, I would have never let her go to Hogwarts. Nora saw his face, but Draco never saw her. Otherwise, if he did recognize her, she'd probably be dead by now." Eva shivered.

"At least… at least she is only half-Malfoy," Harry managed to choke out.

Eva smiled sadly. "Aye, and she is only half-Finnigan as well. She's just as much related to Draco Malfoy as she is to me."

Harry's blood ran cold. Perhaps that's why Nora was so good at Potions. "I thought… I thought you said that your mum had an affair with a tourist."

"Hardly," Eva replied. "My mother may as well have been raped by someone from another planet. It was just a lie to save face. Something to get in my uncle's good graces again." She shook her head. "If they only knew what we've gone through…" her voice trailed off. "When Malfoy saved us, and he told us to run, I took it to heart. We've never really stopped." She smiled sadly. "I guess we ran straight back into him."

Harry tried to process what Eva was saying. So this is what Draco was talking about to his mother that day. He knew of his father's betrayal. He knew Lucius had tainted the family name. He was not worthy of being the head of the Malfoy household. Draco wanted to do anything to get his father out of the way.

He sighed. "Well, there is good news in all of this. I don't think that Nora is in any danger at the moment. Draco has no clue that she's his half-sister. Even if he did, I don't think he'd be anxious to kill her."

"I find that quite difficult to believe," she declared, shivering. "He killed me mum. I see no reason why he'd hesitate to kill Nora—or me, for that matter."

Harry shook his head. "But you saw him that night. He ran away like a dog with his tail between his legs. You scared him."

"Startled him is more like it." She sighed. "Besides, why would he be afraid of me?"

"Well, you are a witness to him committing murder. You could easily put him in Azkaban."

"I would rather kill him myself," Eva said quietly. "Azkaban would be too good for him."

Harry turned to her and took her hands, holding them in his lap. He looked her straight in the eyes. "You are not a killer."

"Yes, I am," she replied, her eyes darkening. "Just one night a month." She stayed silent for a few moments, struggling with her thoughts. "Harry, I don't understand… How did you know? How have you known all of these things without me even telling you?"

He shifted uncomfortably. Would she understand? He had no choice; he had to tell her. He was not going to lie. "I'm sorry," he began. "I wasn't allowed to tell anyone. I'm not even sure if I should be telling you now, but I can't keep it a secret any longer. I've been studying a new kind of magic where sometimes I can feel what others are feeling… see what others have seen…"

"You mean like an empath?" she interrupted.

"Kind of," Harry replied. "Only more specific."

Harry had expected her to feel betrayed; he had expected more questions. He expected her to freak out a little like Ron and Hermione had. Instead, she leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Sometimes, I feel like I can read your mind, too. I know that I can't see all of your secrets, but I can see inside of you." She let go of his hands and draped her arms around his shoulders. "And I can't imagine being with anybody else."

Eva pushed him back on the bed, on top of the blanket Nora had given her. Harry realized that she was stronger than the times they met before the full moon. At least she had some days to recover. Now she was more herself.

And she was hungry.

She kissed him roughly on the mouth, pressing her body into him. Her mouth searched his until the two of them were gasping for air. Harry let his hands travel all over her body: the nape of her neck, her breasts, the small of her back, and her round bottom. He couldn't take it any longer. He had to have her. _Now_.

He didn't even bother removing his clothing as he wildly rolled her over so that he was on top of her. He was more than ready as he lifted the hem of Eva's dress up to her waist and removed any obstruction that stood between his lips and what he craved.

Eva moaned in ecstasy as she bucked against him. Harry grabbed firmly onto her hips and continued his assault. He kept bringing her to the brink of climax, then backing away, then bringing her there again.

"Harry, you tease!" Eva managed to call out in frustration. "Don't stop!" she whimpered.

Harry glanced up and saw that her face was flushed and beads of sweat had started to form at her hairline. He grinned wickedly, then pressed on at full force.

Eva's hands clutched the bedding and her toes curled as she exploded into incoherent screams. Harry did not stop until her eruption had subsided and her shallow breathing turned to deep, satisfied inhalations.

Knowing that he couldn't last much longer, Harry got up on his knees and grabbed onto the bedpost for support. Eva lay beneath him, purring like a lioness as he entered her. He pushed forcefully with every stroke, faster and faster, until all he could hear were Eva's moans of pleasure the sound of the bedpost bumping the wall. Eva clutched his back and dug her fingernails into his skin as she screamed his name.

Her scorching touch was all it took to send him over the edge.


	56. A Teacher’s Hope

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX**

**A Teacher's Hope**

He was surrounded by skeletons dressed in black robes. No, not skeletons. Death Eaters. His blood ran cold. Where was he? The room was dark and each man seemed to be whispering some sort of curse. The sounds were sinister and chaotic. He reached out to a cowering cloaked figure and removed the façade…

_A traitor unmasked._

"Harry! Wake up! Harry!"

Harry's eyes sprang open before he could see who was beneath the skeleton mask. Eva was sitting up next to him, shaking his shoulders, her face pale.

"Harry! Are you all right?"

Harry sat up and took a moment to catch his breath. "I'm fine. Just a nightmare, that's all."

"Some nightmare," she replied. She rubbed his shoulders. "You were… hissing…"

He gulped. "Hissing?"

She nodded. "It was quite, er, weird."

Had he been speaking Parseltongue in his sleep?

"Do you want some water or something?" she asked, already hopping off the bed to get it for him. She wrapped the star cloak around her naked flesh. A few constellations appeared on the dark fabric as she walked past the fireplace and into her bathroom. Harry heard the water start to run. He sat at the edge of the bed and took his glasses off the nightstand and glanced at the mantle clock. It would be daybreak soon.

Eva returned with a glass of water. Harry gulped it down and handed it back to her. "Thanks." He set the glass on her nightstand, then reached out and pulled her into his arms and kissed her on the forehead. "I should go back to Hogwarts before someone notices I'm missing. I didn't intend to spend the entire night."

"Too bad," she said playfully, allowing the blanket to fall loosely from beneath her arms. "I'm not very tired anymore."

Harry grinned and pulled on the edge of it so hard that it quickly unraveled from Eva's body. She squealed as Harry grabbed her by her hips and pulled her into him, spreading his legs so she could fit between them. He pulled back her hair behind her ear and kissed the nape of her neck, and left a wet trail as he made his way to her lips. Eva's palms pressed flat against Harry's chest and sent shivers down his spine.

Perhaps he could stay just a bit longer.

Harry hastily recorded the dream he'd had at the Hog's Head a few nights before and snapped the Diary Dupuliquer shut and hid it beneath his pillow. He'd nearly forgotten about it and skipped lunch in the Great Hall to write it down. Before he knew it, it was time for Muggle Studies. He raced to the first floor corridor so quickly that when he rushed by the portrait of the owls that they all flew away in fright.

He took his seat next to Ron. "Where were you?" he asked.

"I forgot something. I had to run up and take care of it." Ron nodded, and Harry was a tad relieved that he didn't ask anymore questions.

Professor Avis waltzed into the classroom from her office, looking as extravagant as ever in a black and pink-striped pantsuit and a shiny purple silk robe. She had it belted around her waist with a string of golden beads. "Good afternoon, everyone," she greeted. "Mr. Weasley will unfortunately not be able to join us this afternoon. However, we have much business to attend to in his absence."

Harry glanced at Ron and whispered, "Where's your dad?"

Ron shrugged. "How should I know?"

Harry frowned. Mr. Weasley wasn't in the best shape the last time he'd seen him. What if something was wrong with him? Harry had half a mind to outright ask Professor Avis or even use his Legilimency skills on her. However, he decided to add it to his mental list of things to ask Dumbledore at their next lesson.

"After carefully reviewing all of your essays," Professor Avis continued, dropping a large stack of parchment on her desk with a loud thud, "I have picked the two leaders of the Muggle Debate. There were some of you who clearly stated your position and some of you who weren't sure which side to support. I have divided all of you into equal teams, depending on what you wrote in your essays."

Harry knew which side he was on. He had clearly stated in his paper that Muggles had no place in the wizarding world. Ron had been one of the students on the fence about the whole matter. On one hand, he understood Harry's point of view; being in the line of fire was no place for Muggles. On the other hand, Ron thought of Muggles much like his father—interesting and full of possibilities.

Professor Avis approached Harry's desk and dropped his essay on his desk. "Congratulations, Mr. Potter. You will be the leader of the team against telling Muggles about the wizarding world. You made a very compelling argument."

Harry flipped through his essay. Professor Avis had made comments in the margins. One particular paragraph was highlighted.

_The notion that Muggles would be better off knowing about the magical world is simply an irrational belief. Despite the conflicts that would arise in day-to-day life between wizards and Muggles, there is no reason to put an entire population of innocent people at risk. As a member of the wizarding world I have seen dark magic and the horrors of evil wizards. I would not wish this upon anyone, whether magical or Muggle. Ignorance is not only bliss; it is safety._

Professor Avis had commented: _Very compelling argument. Powerful. Use in debate._

He was vaguely aware of her calling the names of the people who were also on his team. He was relieved to hear Ron's name called.

"And finally, the leader of the opposition, of those who feel that Muggles should be told about the magical world, is Mr. Longbottom." She walked over to Neville's desk and handed him his paper. He looked positively petrified. He stared at the piece of parchment as though it were going to bite him back. Professor Avis even had to give him some encouragement. "Well done, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville turned to face Harry and gulped.

Harry tried to smile at him, but could only see the irony in the situation. He and Neville had so much in common—more than the poor fellow knew—and yet found themselves on opposite sides.

"Our next class periods will be dedicated to research and rehearsal for the debate. It is only three weeks away and I expect everyone to be top notch. Each of you is required to participate. This debate will take place in the Great Hall. Not only will it be watched by the entire student body, but we will also be having some very important special guests."

Neville's complexion paled. "Important special guests?"

Professor Avis nodded. "It's a surprise, Mr. Longbottom. Don't let your nerves get the best of you."

Harry sighed. She might as well have asked Neville to stop breathing.

"Please, Professor." Harry stared firmly into Dumbledore's deep blue eyes. "I have a right to know what happened. I know that something went on at a Death Eater meeting. I know that there's something wrong with Mr. Weasley…"

"Harry," he interrupted, "this is the Order's business. It is nothing for you to worry about."

"But don't you understand, sir!" Harry cried. "All I do is worry! I can't stand being left in the dark any longer. I helped the Order gather information. I completed all of my tasks. Don't I deserve to know what happened?"

Harry didn't realize that he had stood up from his seat and had pounded his fist against Dumbledore's desk in the hidden room. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and then sat back down. Dumbledore was as calm as ever. He sat back in his chair and stroked his beard.

"Indeed, Harry, you have proven yourself this term in more ways than one. Yes, I do suppose that you deserve an explanation." He paused. "From the information you gathered from the young Mr. Malfoy, we suspected that he was going to oust Professor Snape at the next Death Eater assembly. Voldemort already had his loyal men—the only way in for Draco is to get someone out of his inner circle."

"So he did become a death eater?"

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence Harry. "The dark lord is not quite so accepting. Arthur, Tonks, and Remus accompanied Professor Snape to the meeting, hoping to help his escape if necessary. However, Malfoy exposed his father instead, for his affair with a Muggle woman some years ago."

"Eleven years ago," Harry said. "Professor, he's talking about Nora Finnigan."

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to light up. He nodded. "Indeed. I, too, managed to put the pieces together. But not by the same means as you used. Lucius declared war upon his son and left in a rage. Draco humiliated him in front of not only Voldemort, but his peers as well. I daresay that young Nora is now in more danger than ever. It is a good thing that Lucius does not know the face of his own daughter, nor her magical powers. Draco is not a death eater yet, but he is not far from gaining that title."

"And what about Arthur? Was he hurt?"

"Unfortunately, Arthur is not as young as he used to be. In fact, that is a problem many of our numbers seem to be running into lately." Dumbledore took a deep breath. Harry knew he was referring to himself. "He had to stay in an uncomfortable position inside of a trunk. He tore his hamstring in several places and has had to receive treatment at St. Mungo's. I assure you, however, that he will make a full recovery."

Harry let out the breath that he had been holding. "I was afraid it was something permanent." He didn't want to see the look on Ron's and Ginny's faces if they had to watch their father hobble around for the rest of his life.

"And Harry, I am afraid that we have come to the end of our journey together."

Harry hadn't been expecting to hear that. "Professor, I'm sorry, I just had to know that everything was all right this time. I will stay out of the Order's business, I promise. I have to continue my training."

"That's just it," Dumbledore replied, his eyes sad. "Your training is complete."

"Excuse me, sir?"

"You are now one of the most accomplished Legilimens in the world. You have proven yourself time and time again. You have surpassed my own abilities. There is nothing left to teach."

"But professor… you can't be serious…"

"I am serious, Harry. All of the information you have gathered—about Malfoy's potion, his deal to become a death eater, his feud with his father, his father's betrayal—it is all true. There is nothing more that I can do for you. In fact, there are probably a few things you could teach me."

"I doubt that, sir," Harry replied. "Are you sure?"

Dumbledore's eyes were solemn. "It is a rewarding, yet bittersweet day when the student becomes the teacher, Harry. Perhaps you will find that out for yourself one day."

"But Professor…"

The headmaster chuckled. "I expected you to be happy about this, Harry! No more lessons. Just in time for Quidditch practices to start up again. You'll have more free time for your friends and your studies, which I am sure you will need before the debate."

"But sir, I'm not ready. How do you know that I will be useful in the future?"

"Harry, it is impossible for me to know. Did you know that when I was in school we were learning the useless study of **Adinventitias**? I haven't used it once since I took my N.E.W.T.s." Dumbledore got up from his seat and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I cannot teach for the future. I do not know what it holds. But I have done everything in my power to prepare you for it."

Dumbledore removed his hand and walked out from behind his desk. "Do not think of this as an ending, Harry. It is only a beginning. Now that the chaos of the death eater meeting has passed and we have protected our allies in Voldemort's plans, your load has become much lighter. Appreciate it for what it's worth."

Harry got up from his seat. "Yes, sir." He did not even try to hide his feelings. He couldn't help but feel an enormous amount of anxiety. Now he was truly on his own.

On the night before the next full moon, Harry quickly packed his bag for the night. He had already packed his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map. He'd also gone to the greenhouse and managed to smuggle out some beautiful flowers from Professor Spout's personal collection. He was careful to choose harmless plants, despite the fact that Eva had proven that she could hold her own against some fearful foliage.

"Where're you going?"

Harry turned around and saw Ron behind him, inspecting the flowers on the bed and watching Harry pack. He breathed a sigh of relief that it was Ron and not one of his dorm-mates. He was tired of making excuses.

"It's the night before the full moon," Harry replied. "I'm meeting Eva."

"Oh, right." Ron grinned knowingly. Harry decided to ignore it. "I've just received a letter from Charlie." He handed Harry a folded-up piece of parchment.

_Ron,_

_I don't even want to know why you would waste your time and paper to write me about something so ridiculous. First of all, impossible potions are just that: impossible. Secondly, the fact that you even know about impossible potions just proves to me that you are meddling in things that you have no part in. Don't forget that I was once a student at Hogwarts as well. I have seen the same pictures and read the same books. Your curiosity will only cause misery. If I get wind of you doing anything more than reading about impossible potions I'll send an owl mom's way before you can even say "Plethera of Potions."_

_Sincerely,_

_Your wiser, more handsome brother,_

CHARLIE

_P.S. If you are trying to weasel your way in like George and Fred this route is _not_ the way to go._

Harry sighed. "He was a big help."

"But he clearly knows more than he's saying," Ron replied. "I mean, he knows the title of one of the books about impossible potions. He must have seen it when he was here."

Harry frowned. Were the three of them dangerously close to something? _Your curiosity will only cause pain_. "Did Charlie ever get into trouble when he was at Hogwarts?"

Ron grunted. "Loads. The only time he got into any serious trouble though was right before his seventh year. I don't really know anything about it—I just know that both my mom and my dad had to go to Hogwarts. Gin and I were shipped off to the Lovegoods. It was quite scary."

"Could it have something to do with that?"

He shrugged. "We could try and ask somebody who was here when Charlie was."

"Dumbledore would never tell us anything like that about Charlie. I mean, he could never break confidentiality…"

"Not Dumbledore," Ron interrupted, smiling. "Tonks."

Harry nodded. "Good idea." He had almost forgotten that Tonks and Charlie had attended Hogwarts at the same time. And when he and Eva were in Charlie's car on the way to London, he did mention that he'd had some bad times. In fact, he'd outright shut down and didn't speak of Hogwarts at all. "Er, not tonight though." He glanced at his watch. He would be due in the kitchens soon.

"Understood. I'll… let you go." Ron was grinning foolishly again, and it was impossible for Harry not to roll his eyes at him. Although, his best friend's smile simply added to his excitement as he threw the invisibility cloak over his head and quickly left the dormitory.

His heart beat faster with every step he took down to the kitchens. Once he reached the bottom of the stone stairs that led to the very bottom, he removed the invisibility cloak and tucked it away inside of his bag. Tonks was already near the horrid cages for the next night, pacing back and forth.

"Hullo, Harry," she greeted wistfully.

"Evening," he replied.

"They're due any moment." She paused and laced her fingers behind her back. "Need I remind you that Eva needs to be back here by noon? You cut it quite close last time."

Harry nodded. "I know. I'm sorry." He couldn't guarantee it wouldn't happen again. He and Eva had developed a habit of staying up early and sleeping in late.

There was some commotion in the room where Eva and Remus were left to recuperate after their transformations. Dobby and another house-elf came rushing out, looking slightly stressed.

"That would be them." Tonks turned her attention to the two house-elves. Harry did not pay attention to what instruction she was giving them, but kept his eyes peeled at the door.

Remus was the first to exit the room. He looked a tad scraggly but brushed himself off. He greeted Harry with a hearty handshake. "How're doing, Harry? Staying out of trouble?"

Harry grinned. "Of course."

Remus put both of his hands onto Harry's shoulders. For a moment, Harry thought he was going to kiss him on the cheek. Instead, he leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Go easy on her tonight."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why?" he questioned. Then Eva stepped out of the room as well.

She looked just as pale as ever. The apples of her cheeks were bright red and her eyes were glassy. She had a bag strapped around her shoulders and the weight of it seemed to tie her down. She stepped forward gingerly, as though it hurt, and smiled brightly at Harry. "Hullo, Harry!"

Harry approached her, not quite sure how to react. On one hand, she looked terrible. On the other, she was trying to put on a good face for him and he didn't want to ruin her effort. He reached out pulled her into him. Her cheek was clammy as he kissed it. "Here, let me get that for you." Before she could protest, Harry removed the bag from her shoulders and hoisted it over his own.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"You two have fun," Tonks called as she and Remus disappeared down a hallway. "Don't forget, noon tomorrow. And stay out of trouble."

"Of course," Eva replied. "Trouble? Us? Never."

Harry laughed. At least she still had her sense of humor. That was a good sign.


	57. An Urgent Letter

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN**

**An Urgent Letter**

Out of her own stubbornness and will to prove that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her, Eva made Harry take her all the way up to Gryffindor Tower under the guise of the invisibility cloak. After he had once again bewitched the curtains of his bed into silence, she collapsed onto the mattress. Not bothering to change himself, he climbed into bed with her and pulled her into his lap so that her head was resting on his chest.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he questioned, stroking her dark curly hair.

She looked up at him and smiled. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He laughed. "I didn't think so." Truthfully, it worried him. It would have been nice to simply ignore her condition and move on to other things. But he knew that he could not require anything of her in good conscience in her current state.

"It's getting worse," she said quietly. "Every time… It takes a lot out of me. Before and after."

Harry continued to stroke her hair, then moved his other hand to rub her back. A tear trickled down her cheek. "Something inside of me… hurts. I don't know what it is. I don't know how to make it stop hurting."

Her words made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He knew that being a werewolf often took its toll on Muggles. Some went crazy. Some succumbed to the wild. But Eva had support—not only from him and the rest of the wizarding world, but also from Snape's potion. Wasn't it enough to keep her alive and sane?

Eva's tears continued to fall. Harry gingerly wiped them away from her feverish cheek. "Just being with you helps," she said quietly. "I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you."

Harry kissed the top of her head. "The feeling is mutual."

For the rest of the evening, Harry tried to lighten the mood with funny stories. He hated to see Eva's tears and did everything he could to stop them from making another appearance. After a few hours, they changed into their nightclothes and spent a while sharing feverish kisses. Eventually, Eva surrendered to her exhaustion and fell asleep in Harry's arms. He stayed awake and watched her sleep for as long as he could manage, until he too gave into the night.

The next thing he knew, he was awakened by a hooting accompanied by groaning from his bedmates. Quickly, he pushed a still sleeping Eva to the side and jumped out of his four-poster. Sunlight was streaming in from the windows. Ron stared back at him from his own bed, sleepy-eyed and grumbling at the snowy white owl on Harry's nightstand.

"Could ya take care of your damn bird, 'Arry?" Ron asked hoarsely.

"Sorry. Ouch!" Hedwig nipped at Harry's fingers as he untied a letter from her outstretch talon. She seemed to be aware of his current bed partner and was slightly jealous. Harry gave her an owl treat from a box on his nightstand. He also put his glasses on and glanced at the letter. It wasn't a typical letter he received from Remus or the Weasleys. In fact, it was a Muggle envelope. On the front, it merely was addressed to "Harry Potter." No Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, no return address.

"Say, Harry, is she… in there?" Ron whispered and gestured to Harry's bed.

Harry sighed. "Yes. But it's not what you think," he added quickly.

Ron smiled and glanced at the letter he was holding. "Who's it from?"

"Dunno," Harry replied. "But do me a favor and tell everyone to leave me alone this morning. I'll be sleeping in on account of a bad headache. I'll be skipping breakfast… and maybe Charms, too."

Ron shook his head. "I don't know whether you're being generous or just stupid. Flitwick will have your head."

Harry sighed. "Won't be the first time." He flashed Ron a grin and squeezed between the curtains, careful to conceal Eva from the outside room.

She was awake and already sitting up, pulling her messy hair back into a ponytail. "Mail?" she questioned. "Don't tell me you're receiving love letters from some other girl."

"Nope, just the two," Harry replied. Eva responded with a playful punch on the arm. Harry showed her the envelope. "It looks like it's from a Muggle."

Eva nodded. "That's a regular envelope, all right. Look, it has the recycling symbol on it." She ran her fingers over the imprint on the back of it. "What Muggle—besides me, of course—would be sending you mail?"

Harry shrugged and ripped the envelope open. "My Muggle Studies professor is always using Muggle stuff. Maybe it's from her. We have this huge debate coming up that I'm in charge of…"

"Wait!" Eva had the envelope in her hands and was staring at the front of it. "I recognize this handwriting. But why on earth would he be writing to you?"

As Harry opened the letter, another folded piece of paper fell out. This one had Eva's name written across it. Harry handed it to her. "Who is it from?" Harry only had to unfold his own letter to see.

_Harry,_

_Please see that this gets to Eva. I have no way of contacting her._

_I'm sorry for the other night._

_I do believe you. The both of you._

_-DAVID CAYLE_

Harry couldn't believe what he was reading. "How did he send this?" But Eva wasn't listening. She had also torn open her letter and was devouring every word. Harry watched her read, her eyes lighting up. Suddenly, she looked at him.

"Harry, did you… did you do magic when I wasn't around that night we met David?"

He shook his head. "No… Oh, wait. I did pick up the Moon Guide by magic when it fell out of my pocket. It was just a simple charm used to…"

"Well, that simple charm may have just turned my entire mission around!" She grabbed Harry and kissed him excitedly.

"I don't understand…"

"David was watching us fighting. He saw me go back into the pub and watched you pick up the Moon Guide. It was that small bit of magic that convinced him."

"You're joking." Harry suddenly felt sick. He thought Eva was done with her mission for good. In his own laziness he'd breathed new life into it.

She shook her head. "He wants to speak with me as soon as possible. He's going to bring others! Do you know what this means?"

Harry shrugged, still shocked.

"This means that all my work was not for nothing! There _are_ Muggle believers!" She breathed a sigh of relief and flopped back on the pillows on his bed.

Harry took the letter from her hands and read it for himself. David confessed that he did believe, and that he was sorry. She was right; it all made sense. After his strange experiences, he knew that there was something else out there. He just wasn't ready to accept that it was magic.

"How did he know to send the letter?" Harry questioned. "I mean, how could he even know that post is delivered by owl?"

Eva sat up and shrugged. "I guess you'll just have to ask him for yourself." She grabbed her bag from the foot of the bed and rifled through it, looking for something.

"You're not suggesting that I come with you on another… Muggle meeting?"

"That's _exactly_ what I'm suggesting. And I think I'll need some more reinforcements. I mean, Nora should come, obviously, because he already knows her and now we can tell him the truth about where she's been…"

"Slow down," Harry said. "I think you're getting a little too excited. I mean, I can't be responsible for breaking an entire group of people out of Hogwarts…"

"You've done it before," she interrupted. "Last year, at the Ministry."

"That was a mistake," Harry bellowed. He said it more harshly than he intended. But he didn't want to be responsible for people's lives anymore. He was lucky that they only lost Sirius.

Eva turned and batted dark eye lashes his way. She was turning on the charm, and it was impossible for him not to fall for it. "Please, Harry. You know how much it would mean to me. We can really accomplish something. Together." She gently took his hand. "I will not sit idly by and let you battle alone."

Harry sighed. That was exactly the problem. But judging her state, he knew it would be better not to argue with her for the moment. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt just to meet with them. How much damage could they do in one night?

Eva carefully folded the letter back up and slipped it between the pages of a book she had pulled from her bag. Harry watched her do it with shaky hands. There was something familiar about that book.

"Where did you get that?" Harry asked suddenly.

"This?" Eva handed it to him. "Molly gave it to me the other day as a belated birthday gift. She said it was a diary, but every time I write in it, the ink disappears after I shut it. I don't know what kind of journal it's supposed to be, but it's not a very good one."

Harry studied the bound book closely. He pulled out the Diary Dupuliquer from beneath his pillow. It was identical to the same book she held in her hands. He opened his own diary, which he hadn't touched since his last dream. Since Dumbledore had told him that there was no more Legilimency, he'd given up recording them.

Now, as he flipped through the pages, there were words scribbled all over the crisp pages in handwriting he recognized. It was Eva's.

"Hey! That's what I wrote." She stared at Harry's Diary Dupuliquer in disbelief.

Harry flipped to the next blank page, took out the small quill he used for writing in the diary, and began scribbling on the page. Then he closed his diary. "Open your diary now."

Eva did. She gasped as Harry's words appeared on the blank pages of her diary. "Harry, this is amazing! It's instant communication!" She grinned. "Now I can talk to you anytime I want to. Forget owl post!"

Harry returned her smile. At least one good thing came out of their eventful morning.

_Next Saturday._

The phrase startled Harry. He and Eva had agreed to "meet up" with the diaries a few days later around eight o'clock to discuss plans for the Muggle meeting. He didn't even know why he was agreeing to help her—he just couldn't refuse her.

_Don't you think that's a bit soon?_ Harry scribbled.

_The sooner the better_.

He sighed.

_I don't like this. Not one bit_.

_I know you don't, Harry. But you have no idea how much it would mean to me if you would just do this one thing for me. The more David and his friends get to know you, the easier it will be for them._

Her plan was absolutely ridiculous. He was supposed to get some members from D.A. to agree to leave school grounds _and_ break wizarding law, all in the same night. He had no doubt that he would find willing volunteers. His anxiety was about the actual execution of the entire plan.

_And just how do you plan on getting us out of Hogsmeade?_ Harry questioned.

There was a long pause on the other end.

_I haven't exactly figured that out yet. But I'll find a way. Whether I bring them here or bring you to them, it doesn't matter._

_Next Sunday is my big debate._

Harry hadn't exactly told her which side of the debate he was on, but he had a feeling she already knew and didn't want to hear about it. Helping her was a direct betrayal of his own position. The things he would do for the girl he loved.

_You'll be back in plenty of time. Don't worry._

Harry scoffed. Easier said than done. Her writing continued:

_Don't bring Seamus. I don't want to deal with him._

Harry agreed. _Are you sure you want me to bring Nora?_

_Positive. Look on the bright side—now maybe she'll stop bugging you about joining Dumbledore's Army._

_Hope so_.

Harry frowned. It would be a miracle if they didn't get caught.

Neville was the last member to stumble through the doors of the Room of Requirement. Looking slightly stressed and surprised to see the first year, Nora, at the meeting. "Where is everybody, Harry?"

"This meeting is just for, ah, a select few," Harry replied. "Plus Nora."

Nora smiled brightly at Neville from her seat on a cushion on the floor.

"What's this all about, Harry?" Ginny questioned as she gestured for Neville to take a seat next to her on the floor.

Harry swept a hand through his hair and stared at the members of Dumbledore's Army before him. The room looked empty with only Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Nora in it. He didn't even know where to begin.

"I think that just about everyone here knows who Nora's sister, Eva, is and what she is to me," Harry said.

Neville looked slightly confused and responded with an innocent question. "Is she that mysterious Muggle girl you talked about in the interview?"

Harry nodded, trying not to blush. "Heard it's the best selling issue Luna's dad's had all year," Ron teased.

"Well," Harry cleared his throat, "Eva needs our help with something. Something that may seem quite drastic to most of you. I understand if you outright refuse to take part in this activity."

"Would you just tell us what it is, already?" Ginny asked impatiently.

Harry sighed. "It's not easy to explain. You see, Eva used to work for the Ministry. With your dad." He nodded at Ginny. "She also started working on a project of her own. Telling certain Muggles about the Wizarding World."

"I'm fairly confident that's against the law," Hermione interjected, folding her arms over her chest.

"She had special permission from the Ministry to tell a select Muggle. If she succeeded, her project would continue. If she failed, she and her project would be terminated. Unfortunately, that's what happened. She told the Muggle, he didn't believe her, and she lost her job. Now it turns out that this Muggle fellow…"

"David," Nora interrupted. "His name is David. He's great."

Harry decided to ignore her comment. "It turns out that he does believe her, and he wants an explanation. He asked that Eva and I meet up with him and some others to have a little chat about our secret world. And well, we need more help."

"Harry, have you lost your mind?" Hermione said.

"No, not my mind," Harry chuckled. "I'm not saying that I agree with it. But I did say that I would help Eva in her endeavor. Nora is obviously coming with us, because she already knows David. But I wanted to see if any of you, the best and the brightest, would want to come with us."

Neville beamed at Harry for the compliment. "When is this happening?"

"Saturday."

"This Saturday?" Neville's eyes fell. "Harry, I can't. The debate is the next day. I haven't even started working on my opening statement and Professor Avis is going to kill me if I mess up…"

Harry nodded. "I understand, Neville. Don't worry about it." He was in the same boat, but figured he could easily slap something together at the last minute. And he was a bit more suave than Neville when it came to speaking in front of a large audience.

"Well, I'm certainly not going," Hermione said. "What you're asking us to do is crazy, Harry. Not only would we be breaking school rules by leaving the grounds, but we would be breaking _laws_ set forth by the Ministry of Magic."

"You know, Hermione," Ron said suddenly, "sometimes the law is wrong. Sometimes the rules are wrong."

"But that is not for you to decide, _Ronald_," she snapped.

"Another decision I don't have any say in," he shot back. Hermione blushed an angry shade of red. "Count me in, Harry."

"I'll go," Ginny said. "It will be a good distraction from studying for my O.W.L.s."

Harry nodded. "That's enough of us. As always, I'd appreciate this leave this room." He glanced at Hermione. "Everyone who's coming with, we'll meet here during lunch on Saturday."

Harry watched the Marauder's Map to make sure that it was safe for everyone to leave the room. Hermione lingered behind. He could tell that she was still upset about the content of their meeting. He waited for everyone to leave, then turned to her, expecting the worst.

Instead of anger, her face was filled with sorrow. She looked defeated. "How do you do it, Harry?"

"Do what?"

"How can you help her even if you don't believe in what she's doing?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I believe in her. I guess that's enough."

The May sunshine peaked through clouds and sparkled of the grounds of Hogwarts. Spring was in the air and it felt good to not be wearing his heavy winter coat as Harry and Ron followed the other students out to the Quidditch Pitch on Friday evening. Having already secured their spot in the final match, he and Ron were feeling quite confident in their positions. That evening would decide who Gryffindor would battle against: Ravenclaw or Slytherin.

Despite Malfoy's undeserved luck in the beginning of the Quidditch season, his extracurricular activities had taken their toll on both him and the rest of the Slytherin team. They had barely beaten Hufflepuff to secure their position in the finals, and after a good half-hour into the game they appeared to be struggling against Ravenclaw as well.

"Malfoy's so distracted by the awful way his team is playing there's no way he can be on the look out for the Snitch," Ron said, grinning. "Looks like you and Cho are going to have one last battle."

Cheers erupted from the stands as one of the Ravenclaw chasers scored. Harry nodded. "I think you're right."

_**A/N:** Look! Now they have magical instant messaging! Haha. Also, I apologize to all the hardcore Hermione fans. She seems a bit out of character in this chapter (I know, I'm ready for the flames) but she will have her redemption eventually._


	58. The Slaughter

**CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT**

**The Slaughter**

According to Eva's instructions in the diary, she had somehow secured a fireplace for Harry, Nora, Ron, and Ginny to travel by Floo Powder to the Leaky Cauldron with. They were going to meet David—and whoever else he might be bringing along—at a nearby café. All Harry had to do was get them to the Hog's Head.

He didn't even want to know how she had managed that one. No wonder they were so attracted to each other. Both he and Eva were quite good at bending the rules.

As he led his comrades through the secret passageway to Hogsmeade, he couldn't help wondering what sort of disaster this was going to turn out to be. If the new Muggles being exposed to the wizarding world took it half as bad as David, they would still have quite an incident on their hands.

"Ew… This is where Eva has been living?" Ginny questioned as they climbed the stairs to her room. She coughed. "The smoke is absolutely suffocating."

"Mum and dad were probably suffocating her just as much," Ron replied.

Nora giggled. Eva must have recognized it and came out of her room, nearly running straight into them. Harry started to remove the cloak, but Eva stopped him. "Keep it on. And keep it down." She squeezed past the four of them and walked down the stairs, motioning for them to follow her. She peeked around the corner and into the bar, which was empty from the lack of a lunch rush.

"Watch out for the bartender," Harry whispered. "I think he can see through invisibility cloaks."

Eva nodded. "He didn't come in today. I think we're safe."

Annabelle the barmaid came out from the back kitchen. "Oh, Eva!" she called. "I'm going to run and get somethin' to eat. Want anythin'?"

"No, thanks," Eva replied. "But I'll keep an out here for you."

Annabelle nodded. "Be back in a bit."

Eva waited until she disappeared out the door and then hurried into the back kitchen. "It's safe." She moved one of the stones on the fireplace mantle to reveal a hidden, hollowed-out space. Inside, there was a metal bucket filled with what Harry recognized as Floo Powder. She took out the bucket as Harry tucked the cloak away in his backpack. The two sisters hugged in greeting, then Eva turned and addressed everyone else.

"This network is specifically for kitchens. We'll all end up in the kitchen of the Leaky Cauldron, which is probably quite busy at this time of day. Hopefully you will be able to get away unnoticed. If not, run." She smiled. "We'll meet up just outside the pub."

"So the Leaky Cauldron, then?" Ron asked, grabbing a handful of Floo Powder.

Eva nodded. "Er, someone will need to take me, as I can't travel alone. And I don't believe Nora's ever traveled by Floo Powder before."

"I'll show her," Ginny said. "Watch Ron."

As Ron disappeared into the fireplace, Harry pulled Eva aside. She was dressed in jeans and a plain heather-gray t-shirt. Her hair was pulled up into a lose ponytail. To Harry, she had never looked more beautiful. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

She took a deep breath. "I think so. Let's just hope things go better than last time."

"I'll be right behind you!" Ginny called as Nora ventured into the fireplace. "Are you taking Eva, then?" she asked Harry. Harry nodded. He would have to hold on to Eva like he would one of his possessions so that she would travel with them. Floo powder didn't work for Muggles alone.

After Ginny took her leave, Harry stepped into the fireplace and then carefully took Eva in by the arm. "Hold on tight," he said. She hugged him, pressing into his body as she laced her hands behind his back. "This is going to be quite a ride."

He threw the floo powder and clearly shouted, "The Leaky Cauldron." The flames flickered into green and he stepped into the fireplace, holding on tightly to Eva.

The two of them stumbled out of the fireplace, unharmed and a little bewildered, then made their way out to the streets of London without attracting anyone's attention. They met up with the others, who were huddled inconspicuously near a telephone booth.

"That was awesome!" Nora cried. "We need to get one of those."

Eva grinned and brushed some soot off the end of her nose. Harry could tell she didn't know quite what to say—they didn't even have a place to live for the summer.

She gestured down the street. "The café is just around the corner." Eva led them further down the sidewalk and then turned down another block. At the very end there was an old, dilapidated brick building that still held some humble charm. Eva held the door open for Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Nora to pass through.

The afternoon tea rush was already in full swing. Eva peeked around the groups of people until she spotted David. He raised his hand and waved her over to his table where there were a few empty seats left. There were three others with him—two young girls and a very tall man.

Eva waved back and Nora hurried over to where David was sitting. Harry thought she was going to hug David, but instead the young girl with strawberry blonde hair sitting next to him stood up and hugged the younger Finnigan sister. "Rose! You came!" Nora exclaimed.

"Didn't really have a choice," she said dryly, glancing at David.

David grinned sheepishly at Eva. "Er… I can be quite convincing. Have a seat, everyone. Pull up some chairs. I didn't know how many of you were coming." He gestured to the teapot and cups on the table and passed one out to each of the newcomers.

"Aye, me either," Eva replied, grabbing an empty chair from a table. She studied each Muggle before her. "I suppose I ought to introduce myself. I'm Eva Finnigan and, well, it's my fault you're all here." She chuckled. "But we can get to that later." She looked to Harry.

"Erm… I'm Harry Potter," he said, feeling slightly self-conscious. He could see that the tall guy was staring at the scar on his forehead. He also couldn't bring himself to meet David's eyes. If only he hadn't done that tiny bit of magic. They wouldn't be in this situation.

Ron introduced himself next. He seemed to be studying the Muggles as if he couldn't believe that he was really going to be involved in what they were planning to do.

"I'm Ginny, Ron's sister," Ginny said, her eyes aglow at meeting the new Muggles. "Nice to meet you all."

"And I'm Nora," Nora finished. "Eva's sister." She lowered her voice. "The magic one." She and Rose burst into giggles.

David continued the introduction, facing the witches and wizards. "I'm David Cayle. Eva and I have been friends for years, even before these circumstances came about." He rolled his eyes at Rose. "This is my kid sister, Rose."

"Hi," Rose said, giving a tiny wave. Now that Harry saw the two of them up close and personal, he realized that they did look like brother and sister. They both had the same brown eyes.

She looked to the girl sitting next to her, who seemed to be a little older and actually a little afraid. The girl cleared her throat. "I'm Morgan. Rose and I go to the same school."

Everyone looked at the young man sitting at the end of the table, but he didn't open his mouth to speak until David nodded at him. "My name is Sam. I used to work with David."

David turned to Eva. "You may recognize him. He used to be a stagehand at the Royal Realm."

Eva nodded. "Yes, you do look familiar, Sam." She took a deep breath and exhaled. "Well, we all know why we're here this afternoon. I have to say that I am impressed with all of you and admire your courage for coming here—whether you believe or not."

"Oh, I believe," Morgan said suddenly. "I don't need all of you to convince me. Once David and Rose told me a little… well, it all makes sense."

Harry glanced around the café to make sure that no one was listening to their conversation. He didn't like how many people were around. But maybe it was better that way. If they kept speaking without actually naming what they were talking about, perhaps they could get away with it.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked. "What makes sense?"

"A few years ago," she said quietly, "I was at my grandparents' house and they were making tea. Everything was normal until the teapot started… acting up." She smiled meekly. "I don't know why I feel stupid—I suppose you all won't think that I'm completely crazy for saying what I'm about to say… but it _attacked_ them."

Ron nearly let out a laugh, but tried to cover it with a cough. Harry looked at him sharply. These were the kinds of stories that Mr. Weasley would tell when he came home from work.

"It… It just went wild. It burned my grandmother's arm with boiling water, and when I tried to help it came after me. I ran into the pantry and hid."

"So because of this… incident… you believe?" Harry questioned.

"No. It's because of what happened next." She leaned over the table, closer so that everyone could hear her. "A group of people… weird people, the weirdest I'd ever seen… burst into my grandparents' kitchen. They managed to stop the teapot and even treat my grandmother's burns—nearly instantly! One man pulled out this… stick. It looked like a conductor's baton. He took it and used it on my grandmother."

Ginny and Ron exchanged glances. Nora was enthralled. "Then what happened?"

"Well, my grandfather got the worst. The sugar tongs clamped his nose so hard that he had to go to the hospital. But the weird people—they just left. A few of them even disappeared into mid-air. Just "poof!" And they were gone. About ten minutes later my grandmother found me in the pantry and asked me why I was hiding. She didn't remember anything about the teapot or what had happened. Then we took my grandfather to the hospital."

"The Ministry must have missed you," Ginny said, "because you were hiding."

"The Ministry?"

She nodded. "The government. Our dad is one of the people who goes in to deal with Muggle incidents."

"Muggle?"

"That's what we call you," Ron answered. "Non-magical people."

"Not all non-magical people," Sam said quietly. "My dad—he has a special name. I can't remember what it is. His whole family is… you know, magical. But he's not. He can't do it."

"A Squib?" Nora asked.

"Yes, that's what it is. My mom left him because she thought he was crazy. But I've met that entire side of my family, and they're all crazy!" He paused, glancing around the table. "No offense, of course."

Ginny laughed. "None taken." She turned to David. "What's your story?"

David's eyes darkened. He opened his mouth, about to speak, then closed it again.

"His is too tragic," Rose interrupted. "Let's just say that he believes. My story, on the other hand, is a bit different…"

Harry studied David closely. He tried to look him in the eye and perhaps he would be able to grasp something from him, but David simply stirred his tea with his spoon. Rose went on to say that she was with her best friend, Orla Quirke, when she received her letter to attend Hogwarts.

"Orla's in Ravenclaw, isn't she?" Nora asked.

Rose nodded. "She never stops talking about her house. How they're the smartest. And how they're good at that game… I'm not sure how to pronounce it."

"Quidditch," Harry finished. "Do you speak to her on a regular basis?"

"Well, not speak. We write each other."

"Through owl post?" Harry questioned.

"Yes. It was quite a shock to see that owl chasing her around when she got her letter to Hogwarts. I'll never forget it."

So that was how David knew about owl post—his sister had apparently been receiving letters for years. He was pretty sure that Orla was breaking Ministry laws by writing to her friend, but maybe not as severely because Rose had seen the letter delivered.

"Well, I suppose I had better get started with the more serious topics," Eva began. "I know that each one of you has had a different degree of exposure to the "other" world. I'd like to go over a few things even though some of you may already be familiar with what I'm about to say."

Eva spoke softly, yet firmly, as she told the story of the wizarding world. Luckily, the afternoon crowd was thinning out and nobody seemed to be paying attention to the group of teenagers in the corner of the café. She talked about how the two worlds have coexisted with one another in, for the most part, peace. She said that wizards were not all that different from Muggles and that both races had their advantages.

"However, there is someone who threatens the delicate balance between Muggle and wizard, someone evil." She paused. "I don't mean to alarm any of you. It's just fact. A time will come when the wizarding world is in danger."

Harry frowned. She talked so confidently. He thought again to what Seamus and Hermione had said—the ominous feeling in the air. Was he just completely indifferent to it? After hearing the prophecy last year, he knew that it would come down to a battle. But he wasn't sure that they needed to bring a Muggle troop to the wizarding war.

"Despite the opinions of some people," she avoided Harry's gaze, "I believe that we can help the wizards win the battle against evil. In fact, I think that if we don't help them, the evil will then come to us. No one is safe against this… this… creature. This man who has risen from the dead and calls himself the Dark Lord Voldemort."

Ron shivered as Eva spoke. Even the Muggles gathered at the table seemed to understand the dark connotation that came when speaking the vile wizard's name. Rose leaned over and put her hand on David's arm. Harry could see gooseflesh on her skin. It was so odd to hear that name in the comfy Muggle café. There was even a tiny bell on the door that rang every time someone entered. How quaint.

"Voldemort does not see Muggles as humans. We are weaklings. If and when the time comes, I think we ought to show him otherwise. We do not need wands to…" She stopped in mid-sentence as a waitress stepped beside her with a teapot.

"Would any of you care for more tea? Or a biscuit, perhaps?"

Eva shook her head. "No, thank…"

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

Eva screamed as a bolt of green light whizzed past her forehead and hit the waitress next to her. Her face turned pure white as Harry, going on his instincts, flipped the table onto its side and tackled Eva to the floor. Eva had reached out for Nora and the three of them fell behind the barrier—or lack there of. Everyone immediately flew behind the table as well.

Rose started hyperventilating as David checked for a pulse on the waitress.

"What the hell is going _on_?" Sam cried. He was struggling to stay hidden behind the table with his long legs and broad shoulders.

"She's dead," David said.

"Oh my god," Morgan whispered. "Oh my god!"

"I don't know which one of you girls has _my_ blood coursing through her veins. I'm afraid that, instead, I will just have to get rid of all of you!"

Harry didn't need to peer over the table to know who it was. He would recognize Lucius Malfoy's cursed voice anywhere. He could almost hear Eva's heart pounding in her chest. "He's found us," she whispered, her eyes wide and terrified. "How did he find us? Here? Now?"

Harry could only shrug. He took his wand out of his pocket and turned to Ron and Ginny. They both were looking at him for further instruction. Ron was sweating bullets, but Ginny looked unafraid.

The Muggles in the café had absolutely no idea what was going on. They were simply staring at Malfoy with their mouths open. They had no idea that they should have been running for their lives—that he would take their last breath of life away from them.

"Wait, do you _know _that guy?" David asked incredulously.

"Unfortunately," Ginny replied.

"But first, to prove my loyalty, I'll take care of a few innocent spectators before the main event." Harry gasped as Lucius raised his wand and cursed a young woman sitting at a table near the door. The girl who she was sitting with went to her aid as she fell to the floor. The girl tried desperately to wake her friend up. It didn't work. She looked at Lucius, then sprang for the door. But it was already too late.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" The girl fell to the floor, lifeless.

Harry couldn't take it anymore. Three innocent Muggles, dead in a matter of seconds. He had to get the Muggles and his friends out of there. With no more dead innocents.

"Go into the kitchen," Harry said to Eva. "Take Nora and the others and hide in the kitchen."

"Wait, what are you going to do?" Eva said. "You can't use magic, Harry. The Ministry will find out."

"The Ministry will find out anyway! There are three dead Muggles!"

"They can't all be dead," Morgan mumbled. "No way…"

"Harry, I can't let you do anything magical. You'll have your wand taken away. It's not worth it. It's not worth it at all!"

Harry turned to Eva, furious. "Just go into the kitchen!"

"No! I'm not going anywhere without you!" she said stubbornly. "Promise me you will not use your wand. _Promise me_."

He groaned. "I promise. Just get everyone else in there, okay?"

Harry stood up to face Lucius, his wand out-stretched. He had no plan. No protection. No magic.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Fancy seeing you here." Another table with two people at it got up. This time, they managed to run out of the café with their lives.

As Harry studied Malfoy's outstretched wand, he could see the hand that he was holding it with also used for another purpose.

Lucius's hands were tight around Draco's throat as he pinned his son to the wall of the Slytherin common room.

"_If you don't tell me where she is, boy, I will have no problem making sure that your declaration of betrayal is the last you've ever spoken in this world_."

Draco shook his head, struggling in his father's grip, gasping for breath. Lucius squeezed harder. Malfoy's beady eyes were popping out of his head.

"_Tell me where she is. Tell me where you saw her."_

Draco finally nodded, giving in to his father's demands. Lucius let go and he fell to the floor, sucking in huge gulps of air. Draco spoke hoarsely.

"_Potter. She was with Potter."_

So Draco had squealed. He still couldn't outfight his father.

"He's not alone." Ron stood up from behind the table, along with Ginny. Both had their wands pointed directly at Lucius.

"Ah, and two Weasleys as well. What a nice surprise. I say, what could the three of you be doing in this café in Muggle London?"

Eva crawled to the door that led to the back kitchen and held it open. She ushered Nora, Rose, and Morgan through it, then gestured for Sam and David to follow. "Stay with them," she told David.

"We could ask you the same thing," Ginny snapped.

"I believe I already announced my purpose. I have some unfinished business to take care of."

"I'll never let you get your hands on them," Harry said.

"We'll just see about that!" Lucius raised his wand again, when suddenly, a man wearing a hairnet came out of the back kitchen.

Harry could hear one of the girls shouting, "No, sir! Don't go out there!"

But it was too late. "_Crucio_!" Lucius hit the man, who coiled into unimaginable pain. He screamed and squealed. "So what do you say, Harry? Shall we make a trade? One innocent Muggle for my half-breed of a daughter?"

Eva was back behind the turned over table and stood up abruptly. "I'm right here," she said. "Let him go."

Gasps came from both Ginny and Ron as they turned to look at Harry. Lucius began to laugh. "Do you think I'm stupid, girl? You're too old to be her! No, I believe she is one of those lambs in the kitchen. And your lie has cost one more slaughter. _Avada Kedarva!_"

The man stopped writhing in pain and collapsed on the hardwood floor, his eyes open and his face twisted in terror. Eva cried out, and then covered her mouth with both her hands to muffle her scream.

"You're not going to get away with this," Ginny said. "The Ministry will have your head!"

Lucius smirked. "The Ministry will do no such thing. Once I take care of this… oversight… I will be back in the Dark Lord's graces and have earned my honor back in the extra killings I've made tonight. He will protect me from your precious Ministry." His smirk turned into a snarl. "And I don't care if I have to go through each and every one of you to redeem myself!"

Harry was torn. He wanted more than anything to lash out with a spell to take Draco down. But if he did, he would lose his wand for sure. It was better than losing his life, but even so. Eva had just finished talking about the battle of Voldemort to come. He would surely need his wand. And he would need Ron and Ginny to have theirs as well.

He gave a nod to the two of them and then grabbed Eva's wrist. "You'll have to catch us first!" Harry took off sprinting into the kitchen. As soon as everyone was inside, he locked the door and had Sam and Ron helped him push a large freezer in front of the door.

"That will only buy us some time," Harry said. "Is there a way out of here?"

"There's a door in the back," Sam replied, "but it's locked. David is trying to pick it right now."

Ginny nodded and pulled a bobby pin out of her hair. "I'll take care of it," she volunteered as she ran towards the back of the kitchen.

"Who is that man?" Rose asked. "Is that… was that the Dark Lord?"

"If it were the Dark Lord, we'd all be dead already," Ron said ominously.

"What's he talking about his daughter for?" Nora questioned.

"I'll explain later," Eva said. "I need all of you girls to get to the back with Ginny and David and get out of here as soon as you can. Go to Mae's. We'll meet you there." She turned to Sam. "We need a plan."

"Can't… can't they just do magic and get us out of this?" Sam asked. "I mean, they're holding magic wands, for God's sake!"

Eva looked sheepishly at Harry. "It's not that easy. We just… we need to think of something to get out of this. Some good, old-fashioned cleverness."

"Well, think fast," Harry said. He had already heard Lucius the incantation to unlock the door. It was only a matter of time before he found a way to get rid of the freezer.

"He can't hit us if he can't see us, right?" Eva said. "Sam, start piling those towels and anything else you can find around the doorway." She ran to a storage cabinet. "Ron, you help him. Harry, look for matches or a lighter. We are going to smoke this place up."

Everyone sprang into action. Harry could hear Lucius cursing on the other side. He was having problems with getting his summoning charm to work through the door because he didn't know what was blocking it.

Eva returned from the cabinet with lighter fluid and some gasoline. "Stand back," she said as she doused the rags and other materials that Sam had gathered.

Harry still couldn't find anything to light a fire with.

"What am I thinking?" Sam said suddenly. He whipped out a book of matches from his pocket and handed it to Eva.

"Stand back," Eva said. She lit the match, then threw it on the debris. It ignited and smoke filled the air. The fire traveled fast, and soon it was crawling up the walls and spreading swiftly.

"Let's get out of here," Harry said. "Before he has time to put it out." He grabbed Eva by the hand and pulled her to the back, with Ron and Sam at his heels. The back door was wide open. The four of them sprinted into the open air of the back alley. They ran until they were on the sidewalk, where people were already gathered, watching the fire blaze.

"Where are we going now?" Ron asked.

"To Mae's Pub," Eva replied.

"Do you think we'll be safe there?" Sam questioned.

"I think so. Follow me."

As Eva led them briskly down the street and then made a sharp turn to the left, Harry hoped that Lucius would have done the smart thing and apparated out of that fiery mess. He kept looking back over his shoulder to make sure that he wasn't following them.

That had been one call that was far too close for comfort.


	59. The Great Muggle Debate

**CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE**

**The Great Muggle Debate**

By the time they reached Mae's pub sirens could be heard in the distance. However, Harry's mind was still back at the café, back to when he was sitting next to Eva and the green light from Lucius's wand pass only inches in front of her forehead. If she had been sitting just a little further forward, it would have hit her. With no warning, she could have been dead. Just like that. Ripped from his life forever.

Didn't she understand that by continuing with her crazy crusade she would be only inches away from death all the time? She could never let her guard down. Never be at ease. She would constantly have to look over her shoulder to make sure that someone didn't have a wand aimed at her. And the battle hadn't even started yet…

But this incident had nothing to do with her crusade. Meeting in the café did not cause the horror to happen. Not having it wouldn't have prevented Lucius from tracking her down. No, she could have been alone at the Hog's Head with no one to look after her.

It was then that it dawned on Harry that looking over her shoulder was the way Eva lived now. Her words finally made sense to him. She wanted the world to be safe. She dreamed of a time when she wouldn't have to be constantly vigilant, when she could let her guard down. That time would not come until Voldemort and all of his followers were stopped.

Maybe her crusade wasn't so crazy after all. Maybe Muggles—some Muggles—_should_ know about the wizarding world. Maybe they could help.

He knew one thing for sure. If it wasn't for her making him promise not to use magic, his wand would have been destroyed in a matter of minutes for violating the law. And if he had dueled with Lucius right in the café, what if he had lost? Running away may appear to have been an act of cowardice, but really, it was the smartest thing to do.

She had saved him once again. And how many more Muggles could do the same for other wizards?

"Ouch! Harry, you're hurting me," Eva whispered.

He had unconsciously been gripping her wrist as they walked. He let go. "Sorry."

"It's all right." She took his hand. He could feel that it was greasy from the cooking oil back at the café. Both of them reeked of smoke, but at least they would blend right in at the pub.

Once they entered, Nora immediately came running over to Eva, her eyes wet with tears. "Thank God you're okay!" she cried.

Eva leaned over and hugged her sister close. The five of them then joined Ginny, David, Rose, and Morgan at a table. The four of them were looking quite shaken.

"Everyone okay?" Eva asked. Everyone nodded. They were looking quite somber. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault. This whole thing. I should have never let Malfoy see me that night." She turned to Harry. "If he would have never seen me, he never would have told his father and then he wouldn't have been able to track us down." Dumbledore's words echoed in Harry's mind. _Anyone can get just about anywhere with a house-elf_. "Now all those people are dead…" her voice trailed off.

"You had no control over that," David said. "I mean, that just… that was just so fast! That bastard took their lives in a matter of seconds!"

"I didn't know that a wizard could kill with only one spell," Morgan said somberly. "That was awful. What an evil, evil man."

"And he's not even the worst of it," Ginny spoke up. "There will be a lot more innocent killings if Voldemort has his way."

David grunted. "No wonder you guys need all the help you can get."

"You mean you still want to help us?" Ron questioned. "After all that?"

"I can't imagine doing anything else," Rose replied. "After experiencing it firsthand."

"And especially now that there's an explanation for all of the other, er, weird things…" Sam said. "I can't be ignorant to your cause."

"Me either," Morgan agreed. "And I feel like… I feel safer because I know the truth." She managed a smile. Harry saw that she had a set of dimples on both her cheeks. "I mean, I'm still scared shitless. But that doesn't mean I don't want to help."

"I can't imagine doing anything else," David said, staring at Eva. Harry didn't like the striking look in his eyes as he watched his girlfriend, but he knew he was trying to make up for what had happened at their first meeting.

Eva, too, seemed surprised by their willingness. Despite the horrors of the night, it was still somewhat successful. "Well, then I guess I'll be in touch with all of you," she said. She stood up from the table and shook Morgan and Sam's hands. She exchanged hugs with Rose and David. "Thank you," she whispered to David.

"For what?"

"For believing me."

The four Muggles got up from the table and said goodbye to everyone. Harry realized that they were quite lucky to all be walking out alive. There weren't many who battled with Lucius Malfoy and lived to tell about it.

"I think we ought to be getting back soon," Ginny said. She gestured to the clock on the wall. Harry hadn't realized that the sun had already gone down. "We've already missed dinner."

A sudden hush fell over the pub, and for one dreadful moment, Harry thought that Lucius had returned. "Turn it up!" someone called. The bartender increased the volume on the television behind the bar. There was a banner scrolling across the bottom of the screen that read, "BREAKING NEWS." There was an aerial shot of the burning café from above.

"…is believed that there are as many as four more could be inside, but authorities will not know until they are able to subdue the blaze. Two witnesses who were inside the pub claim that they saw a man come in with a gun and shot three people, including one of the workers. The two of them barely managed to escape with their lives, and by the time they had reached safety the building had started on fire."

Eva held her stomach as though she felt sick inside and looked to the floor.

"Authorities are not commenting on the situation at this moment, but I think it safe to say that they do believe foul play was involved. We'll keep you updated throughout the night…"

"Look!" Ron exclaimed. "Behind that police officer. In the trench coat. It's Fudge!"

Sure enough, there was a portly little man with gray hair shaking his head and speaking firmly. However, Harry couldn't make out what he was saying.

"No doubt the obliviators have arrived too," Ginny added. "Clever to exchange wand for gun."

Eva turned to Harry, looking grave. "Sometimes I think that man is too clever for his own good."

Harry decided that he would stay with Nora. He knew that Eva was going to drop a bombshell on her and wanted the sisters to have as much time together as possible. Ginny and Ron said they could make it back to Hogwarts before curfew without being spotted, so they wouldn't need the invisibility cloak or the map.

Once they were safe and sound back in the room at the Hog's head, Eva plopped down on her bed and patted the space next to her for her sister to sit down on. "Nora, I…I think I need to talk to you about a few things," Eva said. "About what Malfoy said."

"I already know," Nora replied.

"You do?"

She nodded. "I know that man is the same one from Christmas Eve. The same one who showed up at our house two years ago." She started crying again. "Oh, Eva! I know I should have told you as soon as I found out that murderer went to Hogwarts, but I just couldn't! I knew that you'd pull me out of school and I just wanted to stay and learn everything about magic. I even asked Harry to protect me, to look out for me…" She sobbed and threw her arms around Eva.

"Shh… Nora, there's more to it than that." She sighed, stroking Nora's curls. "I probably should have told you a long time ago, but I just didn't have all the details. I know that you would want to know about your father, but I didn't even have a name."

"What are you saying?" Nora asked, sitting up.

"I'm saying that," she took a deep breath, "Lucius Malfoy is your father."

Nora's face turned from red, to white, to green. "You mean… I'm a Malfoy?"

"No!" Eva cried. "You're a Finnigan, through and through! Don't you dare ever think otherwise. Lucius Malfoy has not had a single hand in your making."

"So all those people he killed tonight… he was really looking for me?"

Eva grabbed her younger sister in a fierce hug. "I would never let him have you. I'd never let him lay a hand on you."

"But that means that Draco is my… my brother." She looked as though she were going to be sick.

"Half-brother," Harry corrected. "But Nora, that doesn't change who or what you are. You are still the same person you were yesterday." Well, maybe not quite, considering all the death she had witnessed earlier in the evening. "It doesn't change anything."

Nora was silent. Eva looked at Harry, chewing on her lower lip. She had just crushed her sister. She rubbed Nora's back. "I'm sorry, Nora."

"But why did he kill mum?" Nora questioned, her voice cracking. "Why did he want to kill me? He's my father."

Eva didn't know how to explain it in a way where it wouldn't crush her. It was quite hard for an eleven-year-old to take, let alone understand. "He knows that you're with the good guys, Nora. You came from his bloodline and you are a threat to him. And mum… mum was in the way."

"So he killed her." Tears rolled down Nora's cheeks. She hastily wiped them away with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "And now I'm in the way."

"No," Harry said. "Now we're all in the way."

Nora sniffled. "I… I think I'd like to go back now." She got up from the bed.

"Are you sure?" Eva questioned, looking concerned. "You can stay a little longer if you want."

"No. I want to go."

Eva tried to look understanding, but it was hard because she was frowning. She stood up and put her arms around Nora. She gave her a tight squeeze, but it seemed to barely register with her younger sister. Perhaps she was in shock.

"If you need anything, _anything_," Eva said, "just let me know. I will come get you from Hogwarts myself if I have to."

Nora simply nodded and walked to the door. "Goodnight."

"G'night," she replied. Harry got up and followed her, getting the invisibility cloak out of his bag. "Take care of her Harry," Eva whispered. "Please."

Harry gave her a kiss on the forehead. "I will. I promise."

After seeing that Nora got to bed—or at least to the first year's dormitory—Harry sat down on his bed to work on his speech for the debate the next day. However, as he looked over his old paper and notes, he couldn't help but feel that he would be lying. How could he stand up for something that he no longer believed?

Frustrated and distracted by the evening's events, Harry crumpled up his papers and threw them outside the curtains of his four-poster. He was just going to have to wing it.

He fell asleep, exhausted from the nights events. He decided to forgo breakfast in favor of more sleep. However, it wasn't long before the curtains of his bed were ripped open and a stream of sunlight filled Harry's dark cacoon. A very angry-looking Hermione was standing over him.

"Do you know how lucky you are to be alive!" she shouted, outraged.

Harry sat up, thankful that he had fallen asleep with all of his clothes from the day before still on. "Yeah, actually, I do."

She sat down next to Harry and looked him straight in the eye. "Don't _ever_ go do something so stupid without me again. It was much worse being here, sitting around, waiting."

Harry opened his mouth, about to say that it was entirely her idea to stay behind in the first place, but decided better of it. Hermione knew that. She was just trying to make her peace with him.

"When Ginny told me what happened, I had half a mind to march in here last night. What if you had done magic, Harry? What if you had lost your wand… or worse, your life?"

"Look, you don't have to tell me how serious it was, Hermione. I know, all right?" He thought back to the green light shooting only inches away from Eva's forehead. "Believe me, I know."

Suddenly, Hermione hugged Harry. "I'm sorry. I should have been there." Harry returned her hug, a little bewildered, but nonetheless thankful that she seemed to understand why he had to do what he did last night. "Do you think Fudge knows it was Lucius?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. The important thing is that he doesn't know it was us who Lucius was after in there."

Hermione nodded. "Are you ready for the debate?"

"Not at all," he replied with a grin. "But you'll be happy to know that I'm finally going to make that big speech you've wanted me to make all year."

Neville was sweating profusely as he stood behind the large wooden podium in the Great Hall. The staff table had been removed from the elevated stage area, and instead there were two podiums with a row of chairs behind them. Dumbledore, Professor Avis, and a number of students from Harry's Muggle Studies class, including a few seventh-years, were seated in the chairs. Professor Avis, for a change, was dressed in her Hogwarts staff robes and looked the most normal Harry had seen all year. Although, he didn't quite like it as much.

Students from each house were gathered at the four tables on main floor. In front of them was another row of chairs for the special guests that Professor Avis had spoken about. Mr. Weasley was there, as well as Rufus Scrimgeour, who had explained that he was attending in Fudge's absence. No doubt Fudge was doing some cleaning up that afternoon. Dempster Wiggleswade was also there representing the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Next to him was also a young woman named Alexis Gandenschmoot, who wrote for the Daily Prophet. Neville's grandmother was there as well, with her large red handbag in tow. All but the elder Ms. Longbottom looked bored to death as Neville spoke.

"…and in that particular case, not only were Muggles unknowingly essential to the continued use of the dung bomb, but also its advertising." He paused and gulped for air. "In conclusion, I believe that we should tell Muggles about magic for all the reasons I have discussed today: socially, hostility, economically, and ethically. After all, we know about them. It is only fair and just that they, in turn, know about us. T-Thank you."

The Great Hall seemed to explode into applause. Neville smiled. A few cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table, while the Slytherins scowled at such an idea. To think that Harry had been on the same side as Malfoy made him shiver in disgust.

Professor Avis got up from her seat and put an arm around Neville. "Thank you, Neville. That was excellent. Very insightful. Very thought-provoking." She nodded to Neville's grandmother in the crowd, who was, for once, beaming at her grandson. "Now, we will here our opposing viewpoint from Mr. Harry Potter." She gestured to Harry.

The guests in the front row all sat up in their seats. The reporter from the _Daily Prophet_ opened her notepad and dabbed her quill on the page. Hermione was right. When Harry spoke, people listened. It was his duty to warn everyone of the darkness to come.

"Good afternoon students, professors, and guests," Harry began, "and thank you for hearing me out today. Though you may be surprised—shocked—at what I am about to say, I know that it is my responsibility to speak to you. I do not wish to be the bearer of bad news, nor do I mean to scare anyone. What I say today is a warning." He glanced at Hermione, who was sitting at the very front of the Gryffindor table. There was a smile in her eyes. Dumbledore's eyes also twinkled as Harry continued.

"Voldemort is at large. Each day he spends in hiding is another day for him to prepare. He gains more and more powerful. It is only a matter of time before he attacks.

"What does this have to do with Muggles, you may ask? After all, this is supposed to be a debate, a Muggle Debate that Professor Avis worked so hard to put together." He looked at his professor, who gave a small, sheepish nod. "I once believed that Muggles had no place in our world. I believed that they were useless. However, in light of recent events," he looked directly at Rufus Scrimgeour, "I have changed my mind. I have seen innocent Muggles killed senselessly, without reason or a chance to defend themselves. I have seen them die for no reason at all. Perhaps if some of them knew of the dangers of our world, those innocent Muggles would still be alive today.

"But Muggles are not useless. Muggles have their own magic. In fact, Muggles could be our secret weapon in the fight against the Dark Lord. Not only have they managed to survive without the use of magic, they do so ingenuously. So, not only do I agree with Neville's position—that Muggles should know about magic because it is only fair—but I also add to his argument that they can help us. Voldemort has powerful tools to bring to battle. The time may come when we need their help, and we can't be afraid to ask for it.

"Perhaps not _all _Muggles ought to be told about our world. But there are some Muggles who already know that everything is not what it seems. There are Muggles who aren't so blind to our world. It is these Muggles that we should reach out to.

"The war is coming," Harry concluded, "and we need to get all the help we can get. Thank you." He backed away from the podium. The Great Hall was in stunned silence. Hermione was the first one to clap, joined by Ron and Ginny, then the applause seemed to spread around the room. The men from the Ministry were frowning, except for Mr. Weasley, who was clapping and looked hopeful. The reporter was busy scribbling away on her notepad. The Slytherin table was positively furious, and Harry thought he could hear Draco muttering obscenities under his breath.

Professor Avis got up from her seat, grinning, and put an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Thank you, Harry. Despite the fact that you did not stick to the content we discussed in class, your points are valid." She turned to the audience. "Thank you, everyone, for joining us for the, er, debate today. I apologize that it did not go quite as planned, but I believe that I couldn't have asked for a better result."

Harry sighed in relief. It looked like at least he was going to get a good grade.

_**A/N:** I know. All the Muggles did was start a fire. It's not exactly ingenious, but whatever._


	60. The Dance Continues

**CHAPTER SIXTY**

**The Dance Continues**

Harry bought his own copy of the _Daily Prophet_ the next morning at breakfast. He was anxious to see what sort of spin they would put on Harry's speech. Would the press consider it as nothing more than an attention-seeking boy calling wolf or a warning that was actually newsworthy?

The headline on the front page read, "POTTER WARNS ABOUT NEW WAR, WANTS TO INCLUDE MUGGLES IN BATTLE." There was a picture of Harry, standing at the podium with Professor Avis's arm around his shoulders. The story took up half the page and continued in the next section. The first part was all about Harry's warning, word-for-word for once. He wasn't used to the _Daily Prophet_ being so truthful. The second part was about his position involving Muggles and various reactions, including one from Fudge. "_The idea is absolutely preposterous. We have these laws for a reason. Telling a Muggle about our world would shatter them!_"

So Fudge was playing oblivious to Eva's project. Judging from a poll included with the article, he was right to play dumb. Only eight percent of those polled thought that Muggles could be told about the wizarding world. Harry shook his head. If only they understood how strong some Muggles were.

On the back of the front page there was a small article about a mishap in London that the Ministry was called to. The Ministry refused to comment on the situation, but investigators had concluded that the fire was caused by Muggle materials and nothing magical. The deaths of the Muggles were still being investigated.

Sadly, their deaths, which should have meant so much more, were hardly noticeable. _Damn Fudge and his cover-ups_, Harry thought. How was a wizard supposed to know if he was reading the truth or not?

Ginny plopped down beside him and dropped a large, heavy book onto the table. She helped herself to some oatmeal and an apple, but didn't seem very hungry. She merely continued reading her book. Every once in a while she would turn a page and sigh, as if she were disappointed to see that she was not at the end of the book yet.

"Maybe you should take a break," Harry said after the seventh or eight sigh. "Ron and I didn't study half as much as you did. You'll do fine on your O.W.L.'s. Don't worry."

"I don't just want to do _fine_," she replied. "I want to blow Bill's scores out of the water." She grinned. "But I suppose I do need a break. What are you reading?"

Harry flashed her the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. She snatched the paper from him and laughed. "Making headlines, I see. Harry, don't you know how narcissistic it is to read articles about yourself in public?"

"It's not that particular article I'm concerned with right now." He pointed to the article about the fire. "Malfoy's going to get away with it."

Ginny skimmed the article and frowned. "I see." She paused. "I wish there was something we could do, Harry, but if we admit to being there…"

"I know, I know. We'd all be expelled. It's a catch-22."

"A what?"

Harry forgot that Ginny didn't have Muggle Studies with him. It was another Muggle book that Professor Avis had them read. "It's a no-win situation," he explained. "We turn Lucius in, we turn ourselves in. We let him go, those innocent people died for nothing."

"Not for nothing," Ginny said. "If anything, they died to convince the others that we need serious help. In fact, if they hadn't died, do you think you would have made your speech yesterday? Do you think that you would have changed your mind about how you felt about Muggles?"

"I suppose not."

"You wouldn't be on the front page of this paper, warning millions of wizards who read this every day. This article makes a difference, just as their lives did, Harry. They didn't die in vain."

Harry nodded solemnly. If only it hadn't taken so much death to convince him.

"Speaking of Muggles," she said quietly. "How much do you know about that David guy?"

More than he wanted to, that's for sure. "I know a little about him. He's Eva's best friend. Why?"

"Do you know what happened to him?"

"What do you mean?"

She looked a little red in the face at having to elaborate. "His sister said that something tragic had happened to make him believe in magic, but he never said what it was. Do you know?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't. But you should ask Eva. I'm sure _she_ does." Harry folded his arms across his chest and stared into his bowl of oatmeal. He still wasn't entirely comfortable with David and Eva's relationship.

Ginny laughed. "Jealous much?"

Harry couldn't believe how fast the second term had flown by. Already, it was the last full moon before Hogwarts let out for summer holiday. It was his last night with Eva, and they decided to make it memorable. After meeting in the kitchen, as usual, they sneaked back up to the Room of Requirement where they were once again greeted with a cozy fire, as well as some butterbeer and a large spa tub like Harry had used in the prefect's bathroom.

Eva was looking quite rough again, but after a full body massage from Harry and a round of the bubbling drink, she undressed and got into the spa, then gestured with a crooked finger for Harry to join her. She managed to give one of her best performances in the spa, and after Harry returned the favor they consummated their relationship once more in a fury of flesh and moans. Then they decided to take a shower, only to repeat the escapade.

He had to carry Eva to bed, but didn't mind, especially when she smelled like the lavender soap he had used to cleanse each and every inch of her. When he plopped her down on the soft bed she smiled through sleepy eyes as he pulled the soft blankets up from the foot of the bed and covered their naked flesh. He pulled her into his arms and cupped her breast, nibbling on the back of her shoulder. His nose pressed into her curly hair and he was once again overwhelmed by the sweet flowery smell. However, her scent wasn't just feminine. There was also something fierce about it; something familiar.

With a start, Harry remembered the dancing dream he had early in the year. That smell—he could recognize it now. Had it been Eva all along? Was this what Remus was trying to tell him in the recurring dreams that had plagued him?

Eva rolled over, facing him, but Harry kept his hands where they were. She reached up to his face and ran her fingers through his hair, then traced his scar with her thumb, making him shiver.

"I can't believe this is our last night together."

"I'll be back to see the last Quidditch match in week or so. I can't wait to see you in action. On the pitch, that is."

He returned her grin, but there was sadness in his voice. "It's not the same. I don't suppose you'll be walking the Polkiss' dog this summer."

She smiled sadly. "No, probably not. I already made plans to see if I can get more Muggles with us. I'll be traveling quite a bit." Harry still didn't feel entirely comfortable with her mission. "Do you really have to go to your aunt and uncle's? I would much rather have you with me on my recruiting."

"I have to," he replied. In order to be protected. But at least this would be the last time. "Are you taking Nora with you?"

She nodded. "Most of the time. But we'll never be gone for more than a month, of course. I still have to join Remus for my transformations."

He could see that she was growing more and more tired by the second. If only she wasn't so physically week on their special nights together. Then they could stay up late, talking, like they had the night he came to her and broke down. Or, now that they were so close, there were a few other late-night activities that he could think of doing with her.

Eva's hand drifted from Harry's head, down his shoulder, past his elbow, and came to rest over his hand on her body. He lifted his other hand to her forehead. She felt feverish, but she ducked away from his touch. "Don't even start," she warned, opening one eye to glare at him.

He couldn't help but chuckle. He replaced his hand with his lips and gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead, then moved down to her lips. "I swear I'm going to find one, Eva."

"Find one what?" she asked sleepily.

"I'm going to find a cure. No matter what it takes." He pulled her close to him, so close that he could feel her heart beating against him.

"You are not going to be a werewolf forever."

Harry was back on stage in the amphitheater. Once again, dancing seamlessly with the woman in his arms. Her scent seemed to penetrate every inch of him, and when he looked at who she was, it was Eva. She was smiling and laughing, her dark hair bouncing with every step. The violin and cello's duet slowed and the two of them grew closer and closer, until her head was resting against his chest and his arms were wrapped around her hips.

The duet sounded beautiful, especially without the interruption commanding him to dance and dance and dance. Harry was lost with the girl in his arms, wishing to remain with her for eternity, wanting things to never change. Let the music go on forever; it did not matter. His feet would never tire of dancing with this woman.

Then he heard it. It began as a whisper. He tried to ignore it.

"…_three_…"

He didn't want to know! Whatever the voice was saying, it was bad. It was something that would change the dance. Something that would stop it. Harry never wanted it to end.

"_Three…_"

Louder this time, Harry played ignorance. No, he would not listen. The only thing that mattered was this dance.

"_Three!_"

It was a chant, now. Over and over. _Three. Three. Three._

"_THREE!_"

The voice shook the amphitheater, the stage seemed to be crumbling. He tried to move Eva to safety, but she would not budge. Instead, she looked him straight in the eye and opened her mouth to speak. However, the voice that came out was not her own. It was the same voice that had interrupted the beautiful dance in the first place.

"_Three deaths_."

Harry awoke with a start and sat up, panting. He was still in the Room of Requirement, with Eva sleeping soundly next to him. His heart was pounding in his chest as the words echoed inside of him.

_Three deaths. Three deaths._

What the hell did that mean? Three deaths? Three deaths of innocent Muggles? Or three deaths yet to come?

His panting turned into shivering. Was Sirius trying to warn him? He could still see Eva's face, but hear his godfather's voice. _Three deaths_.

Once he caught his breath, he pulled the covers back up over himself and moved closer to Eva. She rolled over and snuggled against him.

What were his dreams trying to tell him now?

"And please remember that your final essay of the year is due in a week. I will not be accepting late essays. I also expect at least 36 inches of parchment. This is a summary of everything you've learned this semester. And don't try to cut it short." Professor Leurre glanced at Ron, whose last essay met the length requirement but the lines were spaced so far apart that she had no problem writing some choice comments between them.

Harry was amazed at how Tonks had transformed from a clumsy McGonagall into a professor with her own style and personality. She even had an occasional laugh with the class over her awkwardness.

He, Ron, and Hermione lingered after their classmates left, still grumbling about the essay. Tonks could see that they wanted to discuss something serious. "If it isn't three of my favorite students. Why don't you join me in my office?" She gestured to the door in the classroom. Harry led the way inside and didn't speak until the door was safely closed behind him.

"Professor, we wanted to ask you about something we discovered in the Restricted Section of the library," Harry began.

"Ah, found some interesting books there, no doubt. I did, too, in my years at Hogwarts." Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione.

"What we wanted to ask you about is," Hermione hesitated, "Impossible Potions."

Suddenly, Tonks's eyes grew dark. She still smiled at them. "Now why would the three of you want to know about something like that?"

"It has to do with Malfoy."

"Draco Malfoy?"

Harry nodded.

"Draco is not doing anything with impossible potions. It is all under control and something that you three should not concern yourselves with. Professor Snape has assured the Order…"

"Don't tell me that you trust that oily git, too!" Ron exclaimed with unusual fervor. "Tonks, I don't even think that he knows whose side he's on!"

"Not to mention that if _anyone_ knew how to make an impossible potion, it would be him," Hermione said, matter-of-factly. At least this was one thing that she and Ron could agree on.

Tonks was growing angrier by the second. "The three of you don't even know what you're talking about. Just because you read _Plethera of Potions_ in the restricted section does not make you an expert on dark and impossible potions." There was that title again. Harry was going to have to take another hard look at that book. "Impossible potions only lead to one thing: misery."

"Funny, that's exactly what my brother Charlie said when we asked him about them," Ron said sarcastically.

She frowned. "Well… he's exactly right. You should take both of our advice and stop asking about things that you don't know anything about." She looked away from them and shuffled some papers on her desk. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to grade some papers for my fourth years."

"Yes, professor," Harry replied, opening the door.

"Sorry," Hermione added. She clearly felt bad for putting Tonks in a foul mood.

Ron, however, did not seem apologetic. Once the three of them were on their way back up to Gryffindor Tower, he pulled them aside. "Do you think that something with impossible potions may have happened when Charlie and Tonks went to Hogwarts?"

Hermione nodded. "Looks that way, doesn't it?"

"Last practice tonight," Ron announced as he sat down at the Gryffindor table between Harry and Vicky Frobisher, who had been discussing Quidditch. "I've booked the pitch for six o'clock. Be early. It's going to be a rough time."

"Can't wait," Harry replied with a laugh as he continued eating his breakfast. He would be looking forward to a good workout, anyway. The more Quidditch he played before going back to the Dursleys, the better.

"I hear Cho has been riding them extra-hard, too," Vicky said. "Bradley told me that she made them run all way from the castle to the pitch. Can you imagine? What good would it do? There's no running in Quidditch!"

"But it would be a good way to get the blood flowing," Ron said thoughtfully.

"Don't go giving him any crazy ideas," Harry said. "I'm in no mood to run."

"May I have your attention, please?" McGonagall stood in front of the Great Hall with both of her hands raised. "Ms. Patil, quiet please," she said under her breath. She looked quite frazzled, which was odd. McGonagall was never frazzled. "Due to certain circumstances, the Quidditch final has been moved up. It will take place this afternoon, promptly at one o'clock. Afternoon classes will be cancelled."

The Great Hall erupted into cheers, but Harry could see that this was anything but a joyous occasion for the staff. As he looked up at the staff table, he saw that each of them looked solemn and serious. In fact, Dumbledore was missing from his seat at the table. What was going on?

"Parents have already been notified of the change, so we do not expect our spectator numbers to drop. Need I remind all of you to be on your best behavior at the match and that everyone—_everyone_—is required to attend. Even if your house is not participating, you are expected to represent Hogwarts at the match." She glanced at the Slytherin table. "We thank you for your understanding in this matter." Then she walked swiftly out of the Great Hall, as though she seemed to be on a mission.

"Now why do you suppose they did that?" Vicky questioned.

Ron scowled. "If this is just another one of McGonagall's stupid tests of Gryffindor spirit, we'll show her. We didn't even need that extra practice tonight to blow Ravenclaw out of the water!"

"How about moving that practice to now?" Ginny asked. She, along with the rest of the Quidditch team, had come to see Ron after McGonngall's announcement. Natalie, Jack, and Andrew were right behind her.

"But we've got class," Ron said.

"I'd be willing to skip Potions any day for Quidditch," Jack said, grinning.

"Me too," Andrew replied.

"I've got Charms, but it would definitely be worth it," Ginny agreed.

Ron glanced at Harry. "Think Professor Leurre would mind if we took this opportunity to skive off?"

"I think she would understand," Harry said knowingly. "Besides, Hermione will take good notes."

"Then it's settled. Go get your brooms and meet at the pitch in twenty minutes," Ron declared.

As the rest of the team scurried off to get ready, Ron grabbed a piece of bread and ate it, hungrily. "What do you think this is all about?" he asked with a mouthful.

Harry shrugged. "McGonagall seems a little… stressed."

"Yeah, well, she deserves it for pulling this off," he said. "I guess I can't wear you guys out this morning if we play this afternoon. Time to think fast and come up with a new game plan."

"Well, while you do that, I'll go find Hermione and tell her we'll be missing Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Good idea." Ron nodded. "I'm going to work on not throwing up everything I just ate."


	61. The First Death

**CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE**

**The First Death**

Harry couldn't deny that he as overjoyed at spending the entire day playing Quidditch instead of rotting away in his classes. Plus, it meant that he would be able to see Eva a day earlier than they had planned. Even as he thought of her sitting in the stands, he felt butterflies in his stomach. Today was going to be Gryffindor's day to shine.

However, he couldn't help but feel that something was wrong with this whole situation. He still had no idea why the match was moved up in the first place. As he pondered why, he saw Hermione waving to him frantically from the outside of the field. He quickly left the entrance area and went to meet her.

The stands were already packed with spectators, including the students from Hogwarts, as well as parents. There was a buzz in the air and the noise volume was getting quite loud. It was hard to hear her.

"Harry, I think something is going to happen. I think something is going on that we don't know about."

"I agree." For once, Harry could finally feel that ominous feeling in the air.

"No, you don't understand. You should have seen Tonks in Defense Against the Dark Arts," she continued. "She said that we were going to be reviewing for the essay that's due next week, but instead of reviewing ancient magic, she had us all review our spells. I mean, we covered the whole gauntlet—we did it all. It was like she was trying to prepare us for something."

Harry frowned. "Hermione, you'd better keep your eyes open for this whole thing. If something happens…"

She nodded firmly. He didn't need to say anymore. Hermione was his best soldier.

Madam Hooch walked onto the field and the crowd started clapping as Ron and Cho flew to the middle to meet her. The match would be starting soon.

Hermione went to find a seat in the Gryffindor stands. She sat by Nora, Eva, and the Weasleys. Harry waved to them, and they all waved back. He couldn't help but smile. His, Ron's, and Ginny's cheering section was rather large. The twins were there, looking quite fashionable, as well as Arthur and Molly. There were two girls sitting by Fred and George, and he recognized them as Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet. They, too, looked quite posh. They had grown up a bit since Harry had last seen them.

However, he couldn't help but notice that some people were missing. Dumbledore was no where in sight, and even McGonnagall was not in her usual spot in the staff stands. Instead, Tonks sat in her place. Harry's mouth nearly dropped open when he saw who was sitting next to her. Remus, looking a little worse for wear, was waving a Gryffindor flag. He forgot Remus had said that he was coming to the match.

Something weird was going on. Harry did not like the looks of this.

Suddenly, Madam Hooch blew her whistle to get everyone's attention. Harry quickly flew to meet his teammates on the pitch. She gave some warnings about a clean game, and then before Harry could even catch his breath, the balls were released and the game was in action.

He and Cho flew to their respective ends of the field, but as she was searching the skies for the Snitch, Harry was more concerned with what he saw below. Still no sign of Dumbledore or McGonagall, or, he realized with a start, Snape. He flew to get a closer look at the Slytherin stands and desperately tried to find Malfoy, but he could not find that bastard anywhere, either.

Ginny scored the first points of the match and the Gryffindor stands went wild. However, it was quickly followed up by another point from the opposition, courtesy of a Ravenclaw chaser.

_Who else was missing?_ Harry thought. The rest of the staff seemed to be there. Flitwick, Sprout, Binns, Madam Pomfrey for medical emergencies… wait. Hagrid was gone too. He would never miss out on a Quidditch game, whether Harry was playing in it or not. Not unless there was something else going on.

The little hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end. What was going on?

He was scarcely paying attention to the game. He would hear Colin announcing the score of the game every once in a while, but Harry found himself staring at the empty spots in the staff stands instead of searching for the Snitch.

He moved closer to the Gryffindor stands and it looked as though Hermione were trying to catch his eye. He gestured to the staff stands and she nodded emphatically, but she was also trying to tell him something else.

First, she kept mouthing something over and over. Harry couldn't read her lips. She looked frustrated. Then she put out one fist, used her wand to discreetly say an incantation, and then opened her hand. On her palm was a green toad. Harry raised an eyebrow in confusion. Why would she be showing him a toad? What did toads have to do with anything? The only toad he could think of was Neville's pet toad, Trevor…

Neville. Where was Neville?

Harry frantically searched the stands for his clumsy counterpart, but he was missing as well. All students were expected to go to the match. Why wouldn't Neville be here?

He looked back to Hermione, who was still trying to tell him something else. She pulled her hair, straightening out her waves, but he still didn't understand. Then, she pulled her necklace out of her robes, the heart necklace that Ron had given her. She used her wand to draw circles around the chain.

Who else wore a necklace? And those circles were quite large. It was a noticeable necklace. Of course! Luna's butterbeer cap necklace! He flew closer to the Ravenclaw stands, where he heard a few boos shouted in his direction as he searched for Luna. Hermione was right. She was no where to be seen.

He went back to the Gryffindor stands, trying to make it look like he was doing his job, and then shook his head at Hermione. She looked torn, like she wanted to go back to the castle. She gestured to the castle, but Harry shook his head again. He would not let her go there alone. Something was wrong. Something was desperately wrong.

As time passed, somehow the Gryffindor defense had fallen apart. Whether it was because of the extra practice they'd had that morning or because of the ominous feeling in the air, Harry didn't know. All he knew was that he had a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach that was growing by the minute.

Harry saw a flicker of gold whiz past him, descending towards the grassy field. He took off at full speed. Cho had seen it, too; she was right behind him. Now he would have to keep her away from it. If she caught it, Gryffindor would lose for sure. He did some quick mental math and realized that if he caught it now, the Snitch didn't count for enough points to push Gryffindor past Ravenclaw's total. They would still lose.

But then the game would be over. They would lose the Quidditch Cup, but at least Harry could finally get to the bottom of what was going on. Where was everybody?

One thing that particularly bothered him was that McGonagall would _never_ miss the final match between her own house and their rival. Neither would Hagrid. But Hagrid had always pledged his allegiance to Dumbledore. So if Dumbledore was in some sort of trouble, Hagrid would not leave his side.

Harry made up his mind. He was going to end this right now. Losing the cup was worth finding out what was going on.

He sped towards the golden snitch and felt its wings in his hands as he quickly plucked it from the air. Cho stopped in midair behind him, clearly shocked. The Ravenclaws and Slytherins in the stands erupted into cheers. Colin announced that Harry had caught the Snitch, but Gryffindor still lost.

Cho frowned at Harry. "What is this? A gift because you feel sorry for me?" She shook her head. She was still hurt by him not allowing Michael and Marietta back into Dumbledore's Army. She thought he was patronizing her. "I thought you would have given me more of a fight, Harry."

"I think we have one ahead of us."

The two of them were joined by Ron, who was devastated and absolutely furious. He opened his mouth, about to let Harry have it, when a loud boom shook the stands and the sky around Hogwarts was suddenly filled with black clouds. Screams came from the stands. Harry turned around to see what was going on and followed their gaze to the castle.

Above the castle was the horrible, unmistakable Dark Mark.

Harry's blood ran cold. Immediately, he flew over to the Gryffindor stands with Ron right behind him. Mr. Weasley had his wand pointed at his throat, and was speaking using the _Sonorus_charm.

"Ladies and gentlemen, students, please try to remain calm. You are safe out here on the pitch. Do not attempt to go to the castle. Please, remain calm. Professor Dumbledore has already taken the necessary precautions at the castle. Reinforcements have already arrived."

So that was why they had moved the match up. They must have gotten wind—from Snape's spying, no doubt—that Voldemort and his Death Eaters were planning to attack the castle. The only way they could ensure that no one would be inside would be to get everyone out on the Quidditch Pitch. That way, Dumbledore and the Order would have free reign to defend the castle.

But where were Neville, Luna, and Malfoy?

Harry knew that two of his own were inside, along with Dumbledore, Hagrid, McGonagall, and whoever else had come from the Order. He now realized that Tonks and Remus had disappeared as soon as the Dark Mark had been cast in the sky.

He wouldn't let them fight alone, no matter what the Weasleys said.

Harry and Ron dismounted on the stands. Immediately, Hermione, Eva, and Nora came over to them. "What's going on?" Nora questioned. "What does that symbol mean?"

Eva took her sisters hand and said quietly, "It means that Voldemort is there." Nora immediately took another step closer to her sister. Harry could see that she was terrified.

They were joined by Seamus, Dean, Parvati, Lavender, and Ginny and Cho on their brooms. "What should we do, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry took a deep breath. This is what Hermione and Seamus were talking about. This was what the ominous feeling was leading to. This was a battle. And despite what happened last year at the Department of Mysteries, he knew he was not going to have Dumbledore's Army sitting idly by. No, they were going to battle.

"We're going in. Get your wands ready."

There were solemn nods as Harry turned to Eva and Nora. "You two are staying here, no matter what. I won't be able to think straight if I know that you're in the castle somewhere."

"But Harry…" Eva interrupted.

"No, this is not your fight. You are the only Muggle here today," he said firmly, meeting her deep blue eyes, pleading with her.

Finally, she nodded, giving in. "C'mon, Nora. Let's go sit by Molly." The Finnigan sisters went back up into the stands. Harry noticed that Fred and George had managed to get two brooms from Jack and Andrew, and despite their parents' arguments, were on them already and pulling Angelina and Alicia with them.

"Sorry, mum," Fred said. "We're loyal to Harry. We were in Dumbledore's Army long before the Order." The two of them flew over and joined Harry.

"What about the others?" Cho questioned. Harry had forgotten she was behind him. "Padma, Hannah, Susan, Ernie, Terry…"

"Tell them to meet up with the others on the pathway to the castle. Spread the word, Cho. Everyone with a broom, we're going _right now_."

Ron grabbed Hermione by the arm and helped her up onto his broom. She did not protest about flying this time. Cho flew off to the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stands. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were hurrying over to the small assembled group of D.A. members.

"Ronald Weasley, you get off of your broom this instant!" Molly shouted.

Ron winced at the sound of him mum's voice, but remained on his broom. "Sorry, mum, but they're at Hogwarts. Now it's our fight, too."

Harry also apologized to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, then grabbed Lavender and helped her onto his broom. Ginny took Seamus, and Harry told Dean and Parvati to meet everyone else on the pathway and get them to the castle as soon as possible.

"Good luck, Harry," Dean said.

Harry nodded and led the way directly to the castle. The Dark Mark seemed to double in size by the time they reached the entrance. Harry and Lavender dismounted and let their broom fall where it had been standing. Harry took out his wand and waited for the others. Ron and Hermione were right behind him, along with the twins.

"Mum and dad are coming now with the other group," Ron said. "They're pretty angry."

Harry nodded. But he didn't have a choice. Ron was right. This was their fight now.

They were joined by Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia, Ginny, and Seamus. "Wands out, everybody," Harry said. He didn't know what to expect when they walked inside.

The castle was eerily quiet. There were no lamps lit in the hallways. Every single portrait was empty. Even they were afraid of the battle.

"We need to find Neville and Luna," Hermione said.

Harry nodded, but couldn't help feeling that he needed to find Dumbledore the most. "Let's split up. Fred, George, Angelina, and Alicia, you go up. Check Gryffindor Tower for Neville. Check empty classrooms, too. I want the rest of you stay with me. We're going to check Dumbledore's Office and the Great Hall. Meet up outside if you find Neville and Luna."

"C'mon," Harry said as he walked swiftly down the hallway. "_Lumos_," he muttered, lighting his wand. "Ginny, Seamus, and Lavender, you three head up a floor and check empty classrooms. Ginny, do you know where the Ravenclaw common room is?"

"Kind of," she replied.

"Look for Luna any place near there. I have no idea where she and Neville are, but I sure hope that they're together in this mess. If you find them, meet outside. If you don't, go outside anyway and meet the others coming from the Quidditch Pitch. Then we'll all meet up in the Great Hall." He gestured for Ron and Hermione to follow him. "We're going to Dumbledore's office."

The two groups split up. He hoped that the other three would be safe. Ginny had a good head on her shoulders and Seamus had become quite a skilled wizard over the past year. If they all looked out for each other, they would be fine.

Harry went further down the first floor corridor, planning to get to Dumbledore's office using the stairs at the opposite end. However, as they approached the stairway, he could hear muffled voices. He quickly sped up the pace and sprinted to the stairway where the voices were coming from.

He heard Hermione gasp as the three of them peered around the corner. Neville was cornered, stuck at the top of a staircase as it bobbed up and down between two floors. Below him was a man that Harry had not seen in a year, and the sight of him made his skin crawl. Rodolphus Lestrange, the husband of Voldemort's current piece of affection, Bellatrix, had his wand pointed directly at Neville. He was laughing manically. "And I remember you, little boy. Not so little anymore, I see."

"You… you murderer!" Neville shouted. He also had his wand out and pointed at Lestrange, poised for a duel that he would surely lose.

"My, my, what a compliment. But I won't dare mistake your words for bravery. No, you must be quite stupid to have your wand pointed at me," Lestrange said. "Do you have a death wish, Longbottom? Or do you merely want to end up as loony as your parents?"

"Stop!" Hermione cried. She pushed past Harry and pointed her wand at Lestrange. Harry and Ron joined her.

"What's this?" Lestrange questioned, glancing at the three of them. "The famous boy himself, coming to rescue you? The prophecy was between the two of you, you know. It could have been you or Potter that the Dark Lord tried to kill. I was his best servant then, taking care of both your parents. Imagine if he had tried to curse you into the next world. You would already be dead."

"Shut up, Lestrange," Harry warned. Neville did not need to be hearing that information.

"No, your mother was far too incapacitated by that time to have saved you the way Lily saved her son. Your parents had gone completely crazy before you even reached your first birthday…"

"Enough!" Hermione cried. They could see Neville's anguish boiling over inside of him.

"And instead of being at peace as Lily and James would be, poor Frank and Alice Longbottom are still suffering in that horrible ward at St. Mungo's, waiting to die so that their mind will rot no more…"

"You bastard!" Neville shouted. Harry didn't think he'd ever heard Neville curse before. Suddenly, Neville took off at full-speed and ran down the stairs, two at a time. Lestrange was so shocked by Neville that he didn't move out of the way. Neville hit him full on and Rodophus flipped over the railing, his wand falling out of his hands and bouncing down the stairs.

The stairs seemed to move out of his way as he fell first ten feet, then twenty, as he screamed, and then finally landed with a loud crash. There was a gurgling sound from below as Neville peered over the railing. Harry, Hermione, and Ron raced forward to make sure Neville was all right. As they looked down, they could barely see Lestrange. His body was twisted into an awkward position and was twitching uncontrollably. The stairway that had finally broken his fall had a wrought-iron railing, and one of the posts was protruding directly from his heart.

"I… I didn't mean…" Neville stammered. "I didn't want to kill him, just… hurt him…"

"We know, Neville," Harry replied.

Hermione draped a comforting arm around his shoulder. "It's okay."

Ron looked up from the bloody mess a couple of stories below them. "It was his own fault, Neville. His own clumsy fault."


	62. The Second Death

**CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO**

**The Second Death**

Instead of continuing to Dumbledore's office, the four of them backtracked outside to meet the others. Thankfully, Luna was with them. Apparently, she had meant to take a nap and accidentally slept through the whole Quidditch Match. Ginny had found her stumbling through the hallway still trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

Harry directed all of them into groups again, sending Fred and George down into the kitchens and other groups to search the castle. He still had not seen any members of the Order or Malfoy inside. He decided to take Ron, Hermione, and Ginny in his group to do a quick search the Great Hall.

"Where did your parents go?" Harry questioned Ginny. "I thought they were coming with the second group."

"Cho said that they went inside and told all of them to stay out of the castle. But nobody's seen them, either."

If there was a battle going on inside this castle, it had to be some place discreet. Some place they hadn't checked yet. But where?

As they approached the Great Hall, Harry could easily make out Lucius's voice. It was as angry and violent as the night at the café in London.

"This is preposterous," he said. "Why keep us, the strongest, out of the battle up here, with _you_," he snarled, gesturing across the room. "I have no desire to baby-sit."

"It's Draco," Ginny whispered.

Sure enough, as Harry peered in the Great Hall, decorated in Ravenclaw celebration décor, he could see Malfoy's oily pale hair and beady eyes. He was wearing the same dark cape that his father wore. So now he was a full-fledged Death Eater.

"I'm afraid you have that backwards, father," Draco said. "The Dark Lord had commanded me to watch over the two of you. The two _traitors_."

Snape appeared next to Lucius, looking furious. "What are you saying, Draco?"

"I'm saying that he knows what both of you did. He knows that you, my dear professor Snape, have been nothing more than a double-spy for Dumbledore. You are a traitor. And you, father, after your mishap with those Muggles in London, are nothing but a liability in his plans. I was supposed to wait for Lestrange to get here before I took care of both of you, but it appears that I will have to do it myself!"

Snape and Lucius laughed. "Don't be foolish, boy. You would never do such a thing."

"Oh, wouldn't I father?" he replied. "Wasn't it you who showed me how to be a man, to take the life of that Muggle woman who bore children of our blood? Our ancient bloodline that had been pure for centuries until you decided to taint it?"

Lucius stopped laughing. "What do you think you're going to do, Draco? Do you think you are going to kill me? Curse me?"

"Yes, perhaps I'll start with a good unforgivable. _Crucio_!" Draco cried, pointing his wand at his father.

Lucius quickly got out of the way. Snape, not wanting to stay around to watch, ran out of the Great Hall with his wand in hand. Clearly, this was one fight he did not want to be a part of.

Without speaking an incantation, Lucius fired a spell back at his son, who ducked behind a table. The spell just missed him. Draco stayed hidden. Lucius approached Draco, who was still huddled on the floor.

"It's time you learned your lesson, boy. Let it be the last thing you learn before you die!" Once again, he sent a spell flying towards Draco, who once again managed to evade it. Then he scrambled out the other side of the table, knocking over a bench, but hissed the deadly incantation before his father could even turn to face him.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

Green sparks flew from Draco's wand and hit his father directly in the back. Hermione gasped and Ginny let out a tiny scream as Lucius fell flat on his back, his eyes still open, dead. Ginny quickly covered her mouth, but it was too late. Draco had heard something. He turned to the entrance and was headed straight towards them.

Harry stepped out from the shadows, his wand outstretched.

"Potter, how nice of you to join us." He glanced at his father's dead body. "Well, I suppose it's just me now. Tell me, did you enjoy watching him die as much as I did? Or are you too good to even appreciate the death of an enemy?"

Harry did not even dignify his question with a response. "Why did you do it, Malfoy?" he asked. "You killed your own flesh and blood. I thought that blood was the most important thing to you."

Draco scoffed. "My father's blood was tainted long ago by the mother of your Muggle girlfriend. No, the Dark Lord would not take him back after what he did in London. He was far too reckless."

"So you work for _him_ now, do you Draco? You live only to serve Voldemort?"

He laughed. "I live only to serve the name of Malfoy."

Harry gestured to the arm where the Death Eaters had their tattoos. Draco's was burning brightly—he could see it poking out from beneath his cloak. "I know what you are, Malfoy. I know that you needed to bribe your way in to the Dark Lord's inner circle, just as you needed to bribe your way onto the Quidditch Team."

"Let's not reminisce about childhood memories, Potter. Besides, what would you know of my trade?"

"I know that you were going to use Kreacher," Harry said. "And when your father broke out of Azkaban his servitude returned to Lucius. So instead you had to give the Dark Lord something else."

Draco appeared to be sweating bullets. "How do you know…?" he began. "No matter. What I used got me in. I am now a Death Eater. The only Malfoy true to the Dark Lord."

"Clearly," Harry said dryly. "But what on earth could you give Voldemort that would let him make such a foolish mistake?"

Draco laughed. "You mean you don't know? How ironic!" He continued to chuckle. It echoed through the Great Hall, reverberating off the walls. "Oh, Potter. Perhaps you should ask your precious Potions Master what he has taught me this year. After all, he is the traitor who saved your life."

"What are you talking about?" Harry spat. Draco was not reacting in the way Harry expected him to. "Laugh all you want, Malfoy. With Dumbledore and the Order here, there is no way you'll get out of this. You'll be going to Azkaban for sure."

"For what?" he asked. He covered the Dark Mark on his arm with his sleeve. "For killing a known Death Eater? A man on the run from Azkaban himself? A man responsible for the death of four innocent Muggles only weeks ago? No, the Ministry will not be sending _me_ to Azkaban. If anything, they will be thanking me."

He was right. As far as the Ministry and Fudge were concerned, Draco would be a hero for killing his father.

"It was self-defense, after all," Draco continued. "You saw for yourself, Potter. It was either him or me."

"You won't get away with this, Malfoy," Harry said.

"I believe I already have." He motioned to the stage. "Kreacher, you belong to me now. Get me out of here."

"As you wish, Master." Kreacher, the wretched old house-elf, crept out from the shadows. With a few mere hand gestures and some words Harry didn't understand, Malfoy and his house-elf disappeared from the Great Hall.

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny rushed to meet Harry. "How did he do that?" Ginny questioned.

"Anyone can get just about anywhere with a house-elf," Hermione said sadly.

"But where did he go?"

Harry shrugged. "Damned if I know."

Ron had been inspecting Lucius Malfoy's body as though he expected him to come back to life at any moment. "I… I can't believe he's really dead. I can't believe Malfoy killed his own father. I didn't know the stupid git had it in him."

"Harry!" Angelina and Alicia burst into the Great Hall, sprinting at full speed. "Harry, they're in the kitchens! Everybody!" Angelina said breathlessly.

Harry nodded. "Let's go."

They followed their two former housemates out of the Great Hall and ran to the portrait of the fruit. The entrance was already unblocked. Harry could hear shouting as he raced down the stairs.

The first person he saw was Hagrid battling with Macnair. Harry suspected he had a personal beef with the executioner every since he tried to kill Buckbeak in his third year. Tonks was there as herself instead of Professor Leurre and was exchanging spells and harsh words with Bellatrix Lestrange, who did not appear to be bothered by the fact that her husband was no where in sight. Remus was locked in a similar battle with **Rabastan Lestrange **and seemed to be winning.

Molly was helping a limping Arthur move away from Goyle and Crabbe, fathers of the same dumb and dumber who were at the Quidditch Pitch, sitting in the Slytherin stands. Fred and George stepped in and continued the battle, allowing their parents to seek safety behind a line of cabinets.

Familiar faces were all around Harry. The kitchen was in complete chaos. All of Dumbledore's Army was there, and they seemed to match if not surpass the Order's numbers. There were more Death Eaters than he had ever seen. Many of them he did not recognize. However, he knew exactly which one he wanted to go after first.

Harry took a step toward Tonks and Bellatrix when Luna suddenly rushed towards him. "Harry!" she cried. "It's Neville!"

He quickly followed her to the back of the kitchen, to where the cages were for Remus and Eva. Neville was crumpled in a heap on the cold cement floor.

Harry ran into the cage with Hermione and Ginny at his heels. "What happened?" Hermione asked, frantically checking for a pulse. She rolled his body over and gasped at the deep gash in his head. He was knocked out cold but still breathing.

"Who did this?" Harry spat.

Luna shrugged. "Haven't the foggiest."

Ginny studied Luna closely. "Luna, are you all right?"

Harry thought for one horrifying moment that Luna had cracked under the pressure of battle. Her eyes were large and round and the corners of her mouth were twisted into a half-smile, half-grimace.

"You'll pay for what you did to him!" she exploded. Using her wand, she commanded the door on the cage to shut. The heavy iron lock on it clicked into place, locking the four of them inside.

"Luna, what are you doing?" Ginny cried. She reached out and tried to shake the bars. "Get us out of here! You'll get us all killed!"

"Death would be too kind for you. I want all of you to suffer for what you did to my brother!" She laughed maniacally.

"It's the Imperiuscurse," Hermione said. "Someone is controlling her. Ron! Ron!" she shouted. "Ro…" She squealed as Luna pointed her wand at her and her mouth seemed to be glued shut instantly.

But it was already too late. Ron came over to the cage. "How did you guys get stuck in there?"

"Look out!" Ginny said. "Luna's being controlled by someone else!"

Ron looked at Luna, who instantly muttered an incantation. He lunged for the cage door and narrowly missed the binding spell.

"Who is it?" Ron questioned as he threw open the door. "Who's got control over her?"

"It must be Lestrange," Harry replied, thinking of **Rodolphus**'s impaled body. It was his brother. He must have cursed Luna when she was on her way to the Quidditch Pitch. Harry quickly ran out of the cage. "You three restrain Luna. I'll help Remus with Lestrange."

"It is you who will be restrained for your final meeting with the Dark Lord!" Luna hissed. She said the binding incantation and pointed her wand at Harry.

Harry hit the floor and dodged the spell, but instead it hit Fred across the kitchen. Fred dropped his wand as his wrists were pulled tightly behind his back. Vulnerable, he fell to his knees.

It was then that Goyle raised his wand. "_Incendio_!"

Fred screamed and writhed in pain as sparks flew from Goyle's wand. George fell to his brother's side but the damage had already been done. Charlie rushed over from somewhere and managed to drag Fred's scorched body out of the way. Ginny and Hermione had already tackled Luna to floor and bound her magically. Hermione had Luna's wand tucked safely in her pocket.

Harry and Ron rushed to George's aid and the three of them, at all the same time, yelled, "_Stupefy_!" Crabbe and Goyle were both knocked backward into the wall with such force that they were out cold in an instant.

The Weasleys, including Molly and Arthur, circled around Fred, who had passed out from the burning pain. Mrs. Weasley was crying.

Harry was furious. Nobody hurt the people he loved—his true family—and got away with it. He marched over to where Remus was still fighting Rabastan. There was blood streaming from his nose and Harry had the eerie sensation it was because his mind was in two places at once. Harry wanted to make him burn the way Goyle had burned Fred. However, he could see what Remus was thinking as he pointed his wand at Lestrange.

"_Stupefy_!"

Rabastanfell backwards and hit his head on the cement floor with a loud crack. Remus was breathing heavily—he finally had a moment to catch his breath.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, Harry," Remus said, panting. "He said he was going to alert the Ministry." He glanced at Tonks as she continued battling with Bellatrix. "I don't know where Dumbledore is." He took off in the direction of Tonks's fight.

_Where is Dumbledore?_ Henry thought. Something was still very wrong. As something slimy on the back staircase caught his eye, he couldn't help wondering something else.

_Where is Voldemort?_


	63. The Third Death

**CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE**

**The Third Death**

Voldemort's horrid serpent slithered its way up the back staircase that led to Dumbledore's office. Harry followed it discreetly. Nagini was returning to his master. This was a sure sign that the battle was coming to an end.

As Harry burst through Dumbledore's office door, the first thing he saw was Voldemort, dressed in elegant black robes that were more lavish than his follower's. The scariest part was that he was looking more human than ever.

His red eyes were shining as Harry entered the room. "Ah, my dear boy, come in, come in. We have been waiting for you." He gestured to Dumbledore, who was poised behind his desk, his wand at the ready. Voldemort was far too confident. "We were just talking about you," he added.

_About your training_.

Harry glanced at the Dark Lord and narrowed his eyes.

"I see Dumbledore has taught you well. I was quite surprised that he intended to train you in the ways of Legilimency—particularly after his last student decided to use his powers for the force of darkness rather than for good."

Harry had half a mind to pummel Voldemort with every spell he could think of, but Voldemort shook his head. "Still keeping yourself open and vulnerable though. Wasn't Severus tough enough on you for your Occlumency training?"

_You forget I can see inside you, straight through that scar on your forehead_.

"No, I'm afraid Severus Snape has betrayed us all," Voldemort continued, "and is running from the castle with his tail between his legs like he were nothing more than your mutt of a grandfather…"

Harry, unable to control his temper, lunged forward. However, Dumbledore made a gesture with his hand, and Harry was frozen in place. He could not move.

"Leave Sirius out of this," Dumbledore said. "Do not think that by opening up old wounds you are doing yourself any favors."

Voldemort scowled. "The days where you could lecture me are at an end, Dumbledore." His hand coiled into a fist and he twisted his fingers. Dumbledore gasped and clutched his throat as though he were choking. "All these years I have been trying to kill Potter, and now I realize why I've failed." He took a step towards Harry and pressed on his forehead, tracing his scar with his bony forefinger. Pain erupted in Harry's head.

"Only you stand in my way, Dumbledore." He let go of Harry and walked over to the headmaster, whose face was growing redder by the second. "So not only will I kill you this evening, but I will kill Harry as well. After all, he's fallen for the bait. If it's one thing I know about our boy Harry, it's that he is always trying to save the day."

Voldemort turned around to face Harry. "Well, Harry. I'm afraid that you cannot save your dear headmaster." He raised his wand and pointed it at Dumbledore, whose feet were now lifted off the ground as he struggled for air.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

Dumbledore stopped struggling for air and fell to the floor. Harry screamed in mental anguish as he watched life leave his professor's eyes. Voldemort yelped in pain and covered the two pieces of cartilage that had served as his ears.

Harry shook with fury as the freezing spell Dumbledore had place on him lifted. He raised his wand in Voldemort's direction. He was still covering his ears, but instead of yelling in pain, he began to laugh.

Unimaginable agony washed over Harry as he ran to Dumbledore's body. Without Dumbledore, there was no hope. Without Dumbledore, all was lost.

All that was left was Harry.

Harry stood up and, from somewhere deep in his heart, pulled out enough bravery to approach Voldemort. Tears were streaming down his face.

Voldemort seemed quite proud of himself. "I see I've killed another one of your beloved father figures, Harry." He shook his head. "My, my, my. Don't you ever get tired of history repeating itself?"

Harry's hands coiled into fists at his side. He wanted nothing more than to slug Voldemort and see blood running from his pale face.

_I can bring him back, you know_.

_No,_ Harry thought. _You can't_. It would not be the same Dumbledore. Just as it would not be the same Sirius, or the same James, or the same Lily.

Voldemort's tongue seemed to do his Legilimency for him. It almost felt as though he were searching Harry's emotions for cracks, for vulnerable places for him to penetrate. Harry put up a wall. There was nothing he wanted that Voldemort could give him. _Nothing_.

Suddenly, Voldemort smiled. "I could fix her," he said aloud.

Harry pictured Eva in his mind, her charming grin, her naked flesh, her red hot temper. "She's not broken."

"I could turn her back into a Muggle," Voldemort suggested. "Or even better: I could make her a witch."

Harry had to laugh. As long as Voldemort was still bargaining with him, Harry knew he was a threat to the Dark Lord. "I told you, Voldemort," he said, "_she is not broken_!"

"So let us end this, Harry," Voldemort snarled, pointing his wand directly at Harry. "One final duel between good and evil."

"_EXPELLIARMUS!_"

Voldemort had been so wrapped up in his negotiations with Harry that he hadn't heard the trample of people coming up the back stairs. His wand flew through the air, and the spell was so powerful that Harry's wand nearly went with it. At least ten people had shouted the incantation, led by Hermione and Ron, and more were filing in by the minute.

McGonagall had caught Voldemort's wand and promptly snapped it in half over her knee. Ron and Hermione both rushed to Harry's side, and Remus pulled Harry away from the Dark Lord.

"If you want to get to Harry you'll have to get through me," Remus said, stepping in front of him.

"And me," Hermione added, joining Remus at the forefront.

"Me too," Ron said.

Voldemort began to laugh again. "How sickening! Have you not seen what I did to your precious Dumbledore? Have you not suffered enough downstairs?"

Molly had come up the stairs as well and gone to Dumbledore's lifeless body on the floor. She stood up with tears in her eyes and stared directly at the Dark Lord.

"This is a fight you will not win," Molly said firmly. "No matter how many innocent people you kill, you will be stopped. Dumbledore may no longer live and breathe," Harry heard gasps from the people who were now crowding the office, "but his spirit lives on."

"Very touching," Voldemort spat. But he did not seem at ease with the growing number of opposition.

Suddenly, Harry remembered something that Snape had told him at the beginning of the year. _'Your only strength is with your friends, Potter.'_

Who knew that Snape would actually be right about something?

"We may have lost Dumbledore," McGonagall said, "but we have your wand, we have your comrades, and we have more reinforcements coming."

Voldemort made a noise like a cornered animal. In one swift motion he broke through the only window in Dumbledore's hidden office and plunged down a few feet. Molly and Remus rushed to the window but McGonagall seemed hopeless.

"He's gone, isn't he?" Hermione said sadly.

Remus nodded. "Voldemort got away, again. I can't even see him…"

"Not Voldemort," Hermione said through teary eyes. She went over to the headmaster and knelt beside him. Harry and Ron joined her. Dumbledore had done so much for each one of them. He made the ultimate sacrifice—he gave his life just to keep Harry safe. By the time Molly pulled them away from his corpse, Ron was even crying. He held Hermione in his arms and for just a moment, it felt to Harry that things were going to be okay.

Fudge burst into the office from the other side, where Dumbledore's true office was. He took one look at the scene before him and held his head in his hands.

Hogwarts would never be the same.

Eva cradled Harry in her arms in the hospital wing. Both of their tears had run dry, and Harry was starting to travel back to reality where he couldn't believe that she was at Hogwarts with him. McGonagall was actually letting her stay—with the girls, of course.

But inside, he was still a mess. He had somehow made it through the night, but as the early morning sun streamed through the windows he felt no sense of safety. He was past the point of sadness. Now he was furious. The words he had exchanged with Malfoy just before his disappearance had come back to him in the night.

"_He is the traitor who saved your life_."

No, Snape had never done anything but make life for Harry a living hell.

He carefully got up from the bed, leaving Eva sleeping soundly. He gave Eva a gentle kiss on the cheek, and quickly hurried out of the hospital wing. Mr. Weasley was in a bed next to a heavily-bandaged Fred, and Molly was asleep in a chair between both of them. Luna was sound asleep on the other side of Harry. He quickly made his way to Dumbledore's office.

Harry could feel it rising inside of him. The fury, the passion, the anguish. It was going to come spilling out of him and he needed answers. He needed them _now_.

He didn't even knock but simply threw open the door to the office. McGonagall jumped out of her skin. She was wearing a bathrobe over the same clothes she had worn the day before.

"Harry, what are you doing here? It's so early…"

"I need to know why the _hell_ Dumbledore trusted Snape," Harry said. "I deserve to know. He would never tell me himself, but now that he's gone…"

"Perhaps he would like to finally tell you why." She gestured to a covered easel. "I was going to save it for this afternoon, but perhaps the time to unveil it has arrived. Go ahead, Harry."

Harry walked over to the easel, not know what to expect. He pulled the drape off of the easel and revealed a portrait of Dumbledore, along with a golden plaque of his name and title beneath it. Dumbledore smiled at Harry through sparkling blue eyes. He looked happy. He looked peaceful. He looked all right.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he traced his finger along the magical portrait. He felt a tear drip down his face. "Is it… is it really him?" he asked McGonagall.

"It is a personification of him, yes. Not exactly the real thing." She cleared her throat. "Harry has a question for you, Albus."

"Ah, Harry," the portrait said, "then I have an answer for you."

Harry's anger had almost melted away at the sight of the old headmaster. But he still found the anger in his heart when he asked the question, and it came out in his voice. "How could you trust Snape, sir? How could you trust that he was loyal to you?"

"That goes back to shortly after Voldemort disappeared, when Severus thought he was gone forever." He paused. "Severus came to me with a very special potion that he had concocted. A potion that could do the impossible."

Impossible potions. Harry nodded. He had done enough research on them for the year.

"And he gave me the recipe. He had only one copy for one potion that had not failed. And because he came to me instead of Voldemort, I knew he was a changed man. You see, Harry, Severus saved your life that night about sixteen years ago. If it weren't for him, you would have perished."

Harry felt bile rise in his throat. "But professor, you told me it was because my mother loved me that Voldemort's death curse didn't work."

"Yes, because out of her love for you, she shared the potion that Snape had given her with her only child. She planned to share it with your father as well, but she never had the chance."

"What was this… this impossible potion?" Harry questioned.

"It was a potion that would render the death curse useless. Whoever drank this potion would not be vulnerable to the ultimate unforgivable curse."

Harry gasped. "But if my mother had it, then why did she… How come Voldemort succeeded?"

"Severus only gave her enough potion for one person. By sharing half of it with you, it was enough for your small body. However, it was not enough to keep her alive."

"But why would he give it to my mother?" But he didn't need Dumbledore to answer that question. Snape had shown him why. He had been in love with Lily for years. Once he discovered this impossible potion, of course she would be the first one who he'd want to share it with.

The whole situation made Harry's stomach tie in knots. No wonder Snape hated him so much—Harry had stolen his mother's only chance at survival. She would still be alive if she had not share the potion.

"But you said that it was ancient magic, ancient magic that Voldemort had forgotten about…"

"Indeed," Dumbledore said with a nod. "That did come into play in other areas. However, this potion is directly responsible for your survival."

Harry did not like the idea of owing Severus Snape his life.

"This potion," Harry began, "this potion is the same potion that Malfoy gave to Voldemort in order to become a Death Eater." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes," McGonagall said. "The Order managed to put together through your investigations that this was the same potion that Snape had given Dumbledore the recipe for all those years ago. Thanks to your spying, we figured out that Snape was playing both sides."

"When we confront him," Dumbledore continued, "he told us that Voldemort was planning on attacking the castle the very next day. We had to prepare for battle. We had to get everyone out of harm's way."

"That's why we moved the Quidditch Match," McGonagall said. "It was the only solution."

Harry nodded solemnly. "Do you think…? Does Draco really know how to make the impossible potion?"

"Only time will tell. No doubt Voldemort will be anxious to try it on one of his minions." They sat in silence for a few minutes until McGonagall suddenly got up from the desk. "Where are my manners? I'm terribly sorry, Harry. Would you like some tea?"

"No, thanks, professor. I think I'd better get back to the hospital wing."

She nodded. "Oh, Harry, I meant to ask you… feel free to say no… but we were wondering if you would like to say a few words at Dumbledore's wake?"

"Oh yes, Harry. I can think of no one better than you," Dumbledore's portrait said, his eyes twinkling.

McGonagall quickly covered up the portrait with drape. "Honestly, Albus. Harry, do not feel obligated to do this. Please, we understand if it is too hard…"

"I'll do it," Harry said. "I owe Dumbledore that much."

She nodded. "As do I."

He quietly left the office, feeling less angry but slightly sicker than when he entered it. He didn't know that the answer he had been seeking would be something that would shake his whole being. No wonder why Dumbledore never wanted to explain to him his reasons for trusting Snape. They involved deceit and love and magic.

On his trek back to the hospital wing, Harry thought of the smashed shards of the mirror Sirius had given him so long ago. If it was possible to communicate with Dumbledore through the portrait, even though he was dead, could there still be a way for Harry to communicate with his godfather?

_**A/N:** Okay, so I know that Dumbledore's death is strikingly similar to his death in HBP, but once you read Rowling's version it's hard to do it another way. For me, at least. So I hope you're not disappointed in the lack of originality in his death. And I guess Harry doesn't take it so hard because… you know, he's got Eva. Or something._


	64. A Few Words

**CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR**

**A Few Words**

White chairs lined the freshly groomed grounds near the lake of Hogwarts. Hundreds of students, families, friends, and important figures from the Ministry were seated before the great white tomb at the edge of the grounds. Despite the fact that it was such a terrible circumstance, Harry was pleased to see people who he hadn't in some time.

Madam Maxime was trying to comfort a sobbing Hagrid. Firenze, the centaur, was there as well. Other creatures, such as the Merpeople, had also paid their silent respects from the lake. All of the Weasleys, except for Fred, who was still in the hospital wing, were present, along with Fleur and Hermimone. The entire Wizengamot was also present, as well as Fudge himself.

Harry was seated by himself in the front row, where McGonagall would eventually join him. Eva and Nora were sitting with the Finnigans. He couldn't deny that he needed some time alone, yet felt as though part of him were missing. Time seemed to pass him by ever since Dumbledore's death. He often seemed to be outside of his body, living only in his mind and in his heart. The shock that the headmaster was really gone had still not set in.

After everyone had found their seats, Fudge began the service by opening with a quote from Dumbledore himself. Naturally, Fudge twisted the headmaster's words into something they were not, and the introduction, well, sucked. He managed to get a few smiles on people's faces before sitting down. Then McGonagall took over.

"Albus Dumbledore had been a dear friend to me over the past three decades. Through our work at Hogwarts, we both managed to accomplish great things that have not only changed the present for the better, but also shape the future of our world." Her voice began to shake, which was something that Harry had never heard coming from McGonagall. She was really a wreck. "That is why I know that Albus is turning in his tomb as I make this announcement. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has given me the sad duty of telling all of you that, as of tomorrow night, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be closed indefinitely."

There were gasps from the students, but parents were nodding their heads in agreement. Harry could hear Hagrid's distinct cry of, "No!"

"I know that many of you, particularly parents, will find this as a relief. However, I assure you, this is an injustice to the wizarding world. It is an injustice to your children…"

"Minerva," Fudge warned, "Now is not the time…"

"In our current position," McGonagall continued, "we, the staff of Hogwarts, have no say in the politics of the school. However, I can safely say that if it were up to us, the school would remain open. It is what Dumbledore would have wanted. That is why I urge you, students, parents, and the like, to fight this wrong with extreme force. Dumbledore was a great man, and his greatness lives on within these walls. Your children still have so much to learn, and if they are not here, we cannot teach them."

"Professor McGonagall is right!" Harry recognized Hermione's voice. She stood up on her chair. "If Hogwarts is closed, where will we all go? Where will we learn? There is no other place like Hogwarts!" If Hermione didn't have Hogwarts, she would be completely closed off from the wizarding world, living with her parents as Muggles.

"Hogwarts isn't safe!" Harry turned to see where the voice was coming from. It was Seamus's mother, the same person who had thought Harry was a stark raving lunatic only a year earlier. "After what happened here yesterday, how can you expect us to send our children to such an awful place?"

"An awful place?" Hagrid cried. "Look around you. Hogwarts's beautiful! There's no finer place ter be!"

"And no place safer," Harry said, standing up himself. "Despite fact the Dumbledore has died, the rest of us have survived a full-scale attack from Voldemort himself. Two Death Eaters were killed, another four were captured, and only one person is seriously injured." He glanced at the Weasleys, who took up nearly a half of a row. "Can you imagine if it had happened at your home?"

"It will only be a matter of time," another parent stood up and said. "We are returning to the dark period when we all arrive home and fear seeing the dark mark over our houses!"

"But it doesn't have to be that way!" Harry said. "We have to fight. Professor Dumbledore died protecting all of us from the horrors of Voldemort. We can't let him win. If we close down the school, how are your children going to learn to defend themselves?" He paused for a moment, thinking of everything that Dumbledore had taught him, not only in the classroom, but in life. "Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the world. It is safer than your homes. If you take your children away, not only will they lose their education, but they'll be in danger."

There were murmurs of agreement in the audience.

"Harry's right," Mr. Weasley said. "Hogwarts is the safest place for our children. It is the best place for them to learn and live. What happened yesterday was awful, but it should not close the school."

"It's too late, Arthur," Fudge said. "The governors have already made their decision."

"Forget the governors!" shouted Mr. Macmillan, Ernie's father.

"Yes, where are the governors today?" Arthur gestured to the crowd. "They do not even have the courage to be here to pay their respect to the finest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. They do not work here; they do not live here; they do not have children who call this place home. Parents, think back to your own days at this very school—think of how they shaped who you are today. Can you imagine what your lives would have been like without Hogwarts? Do you want to strip your children of the same magical experience when they clearly know how to protect themselves against evil?"

There were some cheers and clapping from the group. It was working. Harry looked at the white tomb before him and thought that Dumbledore would most definitely be smiling now.

"As a parent who has lost his only son to Voldemort, I can say that I whole-heartedly agree with Arthur." Amos Diggory, Cedric's father, stood up in the crowd. He looked much older than Harry remembered, but he supposed that happened after the death of a child. "Closing Hogwarts would not only tarnish Dumbledore's memory, but Cedric's as well. Cedric may not be able to learn here or play Quidditch on these grounds as he did when he was alive, but to take it away from his friends and classmates would be a travesty. Fudge, how many signatures does it take to amend this emergency decision made by the governors?"

"Er… well…" Fudge cleared his throat. "By law, it would take two-hundred."

"I think you will easily find that many here today!" McGonagall exclaimed.

There were more shouts of agreement and clapping in the audience. Fudge grew quite red in the face, glanced at the Wizengamot, who also had a few members clapping. "This is not the time to… A great wizard has just died!"

"And yet, he is still very alive," McGonagall said. She raised her hands to the crowd, to silence them. "Dumbledore, in the flesh, may be gone. But what he taught is still with us all. I believe that his honor, his cleverness, his charm, and his heart still show in his pupils. Harry, would you like to come up and say a few words?"

That wasn't quite the introduction Harry had been expecting. In fact, he thought McGonagall was going to uncloak Dumbledore's portrait. Surprised, he got up from his seat. The audience clapped as he walked to the podium on rubbery legs.

Harry cleared his throat. "Over the past term, I have had the privilege to work very closely with Professor Dumbledore. Thought he was the headmaster of Hogwarts, he never let me forget that he was also a teacher. He taught me many things, but probably the most valuable thing I have learned is that it's impossible to predict the future but it _is_ possible to prepare for it. No one could have predicted that Voldemort would attack us yesterday, but I think that the Hogwarts student body did an outstanding job of defending the castle. We were prepared, thanks to him. Without his encouragement for certain _clubs_," he said, glancing at Hermione and Ron, "or his dedication to the truth," he looked at Amos Diggory, remembering when Dumbledore had spoken of Voldemort's return, "many more would have not survived the attack yesterday. But today, we are all here and safe. And we owe our lives to Dumbledore." He looked to the white tomb, shining brilliantly in the sunlight. "Thank you."

Harry left the podium and sat back down in his seat. There was a moment of silence before the onlookers burst into applause. He could not bear to look around at his friends. He would have not been able to say another word without crumbling. However, he finally felt as though what had needed to be said was said.

And the misery he felt at that moment—that too would pass.

Exams and O.W.L.s went on as scheduled after the overwhelming number of Hogwarts supporters stepped forward to re-open the school, though it had never actually been closed. The _Daily Prophet_ called it "the biggest amendment in Ministry history." And Fudge, in effect, had been sacked.

Because of Snape's disappearance, everyone was given a passing grade in advanced potions, including Ron, who had worked twice as hard as everyone else all year. Mr. Weasley thought that Ron was well on his way to becoming an auror, with his experience in both advanced potions and Herbology. Whether Ron felt the same, Harry wasn't sure.

Fred was transferred to St. Mungo's burn unit shortly after Dumbledore's wake. The Weasleys seemed hopeful about his condition, but Harry knew Molly and Arthur were wondering how many of their children would be left standing after the war to come, including himself.

The last days of Harry's sixth year were lazy ones, filled with catching up with old friends, like Hagrid, who Harry gave Sirius's bike to for the time being.

"I'll take good care o' 'er for yeh, 'Arry," he had said. "Can' have yeh flyin' around yer aunt n' uncle's, now, I s'pose."

Harry also called one last meeting of Dumbledore's Army, where he congratulated everyone on a job well done. Though they could not save Dumbledore, they would serve him, even in death, against the horrors of Voldemort. Harry even invited new people to attend the meeting, including Eva, Nora, some first-years, the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and even the Slytherin student that Neville had accidentally told about the club.

On the very last day of school, Eva arrived on the train from Hogsmeade to take Nora back with her. Harry had not stopped touching her since she arrived—who knew when they would be together again? Whether he simply held her hand or pulled her into shadows to share passionate kisses, he knew that he had to cherish every moment they had left together before he was alone on Privet Drive for one last summer.

"I'll come visit you," Eva said, putting her arms around Harry's shoulders. The train was headed back to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters in a matter of minutes. "I don't care if I have to hitch-hike by broomstick," she laughed.

"You'd better," he said, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her into him. He was quite serious.

She looked up at him and there were tears in her blue eyes, so he kissed each cheek, then settled on her lips, searching her mouth with his own for the last time. Bringing his hands together behind her waist, he pressed the button on his Timepiece.

"_In memoriā redire sensusūs,_" he whispered.

There was a flash of light, but Eva didn't seem to notice as she kissed him deeply. Yes, that was what he wanted to remember. What it was like to be so close to someone he loved.

Nothing would ever be the same at Hogwarts. Harry could never go back to the sense of security that he'd had before. But he had made up his mind to dedicate his life to keeping the innocent safe. In the fall, he would not be returning to Hogwarts as a student. No.

He would be returning as a teacher.

_**A/N:**__ I hope that you have enjoyed reading my fanfic. Congrats on making it to the end! It has been a long journey. I know that the ending moved quite quickly, but I just wanted to finish this entire project before I went crazy. I did manage to finish it in less than three years. Amazing! I remember sitting down in my screen-in porch at home after finishing OotP on June 23, 2003, and starting this wild adventure. I have met a lot of wonderful people and am honored to share my stories with all of you. Also, I really need to give kudos to my beta, Brie, for sticking with me, Fiction Alley, for putting up with me for the first 30 or so chapters, for its easy publishing system, and of course, the Harry Potter Lexicon! What would I do without you?_

_So some of you may be wondering—sequel? The truth is that I do have plans for Book 7 in this alternate universe I have created. However, I don't know if I will actually get around to writing it. I am going back to my original works again. If you would like to read them, please go to and find my username, ~dorky_kelly.  
_

_All in all, I've had a lot of fun. The Harry Potter fanfic community is amazing!_

_~Kel_


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